Tibet    anc 
Turkest a  n 


Oscar  Terry  Crosby 


REESE  LIBRARY 

OF  THE 

UNIVERSITY  OF  CALIFORNIA. 

Class 


TIBET  AND 
TURKESTAN 

A    JOURNEY   THROUGH    OLD    LANDS 

AND  A  STUDY  OF   NEW 

CONDITIONS 


BY 
OSCAR  TERRY  CROSBY,  F.R.G.S. 


ILLUSTRATED 


G.  P.  PUTNAM'S  SONS 

NEW    YORK    AND    LONDON 

Gbe  luiicfcerbocfeer 

1905 


REESE 


COPYRIGHT,  1905 

BY 
OSCAR  TERRY  CROSBY 


ttbe  fwfcfcerbocfcer  press,  new  £?orft 


PREFACE 

THE  reader  need  not  fear  that  he  is  here  invited 
to  traverse  the  weary  marches  of  a  traveller's 
diary.  In  the  following,  pages,  incidents  have  been 
subordinated  to  the  things  suggested  by  them. 

The  journey  herein  recounted  was  made  in  the  lat- 
ter half  of  the  year  1903.  As  I  have  many  other  duties 
in  life  than  those  of  travel  and  writing,  the  prepara- 
tion of  this  book  has  been  of  fitful  and  slow  process. 

Although  originally  undertaking  the  expedition 
alone,  it  was  by  happy  chance  that  I  met  in  Tiflis 
Captain  Fernand  Anginieur  of  the  French  Army, 
who  became  a  companion  for  the  journey  and  a 
friend  for  life.  He  shared  with  me  the  responsibili- 
ties of  every  kind  that  were  to  be  met  after  a  tele- 
graphed authorisation  from  his  War  Minister  per- 
mitted him  definitely  to  cast  his  lot  with  mine. 

I  wish  more  of  my  compatriots  could  meet  and 
know  such  Frenchmen  as  are  typified  in  Anginieur. 
"Brilliant  but  superficial  and  frivolous"  is  a  hasty 
judgment  which  one  often  hears  from  English- 
speaking  critics  of  the  French.  "Brilliant,  loyal, 
and  earnest" — such  is  the  type  whom  one  finds  in 
making  the  acquaintance  of  my  friend  Anginieur. 

As  to  the  route  followed  by  us:  starting  at  the 
Caspian  Sea,  we  went  by  rail  eastward  through  Rus- 
sian Turkestan  to  Andijan  ;  thence  by  caravan,  over 
the  Trans-Alai  Mountains  to  Kashgar  in  Chinese 


1 56473 


IV 


Preface 


Turkestan ;  thence  skirting  the  Taklamakan  desert, 
through  Yarkand  and  Khotan  to  Polu,  a  village  on 
the  slopes  of  the  Kuen  Lun  Mountains ;  thence  up 
to  the  Tibetan  plateau,  whose  north-west  corner  we 
explored,  passing  through  the  unknown  region  called 
Aksai  Chin ;  thence  out  through  Ladak  and  Kashmir 
to  Rawal  Pindi  on  the  railway;  thence  to  Bombay. 

The  disasters  which  overtook  us  on  the  plateau 
were  those  more  or  less  familiar  in  the  recitals  of 
other  adventurers  into  this  most  difficult  land.  We 
travelled  for  eight  weeks,  never  at  altitudes  less  than 
15,500  feet,  often  rising  to  18,500  feet.  The  country 
is  quite  barren  and  uninhabited,  and  the  cold  is  ex- 
treme. Hence  the  ponies  rapidly  die,  thus  imperil- 
ling the  lives  of  men,  who,  at  such  elevations,  must 
have  transport.  The  hardships  were  in  every  re- 
spect more  severe  than  those  experienced  by  me  in 
a  considerable  journey  in  Africa — from  Somaliland 
to  Khartoum. 

The  Turkestan  region,  at  a  much  lower  level  than 
Tibet  (about  3500  feet),  offered  little  difficulty.  Its 
historical  interest  is  great,  and  has  direct  relation  with 
the  development  of  European  civilisation.  Geo- 
graphically and  topographically  the  Central  Asian 
region  differs  so  much  from  familiar  lands  that  it 
must  be  closely  studied  in  order  to  be  understood. 

In  many  parts  of  Asia  (but  not  all),  the  civilisa- 
tions, both  past  and  present,  have  had  as  their 
physical  basis  a  highly  developed  irrigation  system. 
Consideration  of  the  facts  presented  to  the  traveller 
and  to  the  student  has  led  me  to  conclude  that  irri- 
gation-civilisations are  of  a  special  type.  They  are 
easily  distinguishable,  not  only  from  commercial  or 


Preface  v 

military  societies,  but  also  from  agricultural  societies 
of  the  kind  familiar  to  us  in  Europe  and  America. 
Such  a  view  of  the  matter,  when  properly  worked 
out  in  detail  of  proof  and  conclusion,  seems  to  me 
to  contain  the  key  to  certain  historical  problems  of 
the  first  importance.  In  the  following  pages  it  has 
not  been  possible  to  do  much  more  than  to  state  the 
theme;  I  hope  to  give  it  full  treatment  at  a  later 
date.  Meanwhile,  I  shall  be  gratified  if  the  interest 
of  some  inquiring  and  critical  minds  should  be 
awakened  by  the  suggestions  now  presented. 

In  Western  and  Eastern  Turkestan,  respectively, 
the  traveller  may  observe,  and  compare,  Russian 
and  Chinese  colonial  administration.  Most  inter- 
esting are  the  indications  thus  given  of  the  charac- 
teristics of  two  peoples  now  challenging  the  world's 
closest  attention.  Incidentally,  one  is  of  course 
drawn  to  consider  the  general  relation  of  Europe  to 
Asia.  I  trust  that  if  any  of  my  readers  have  been 
uneasy  as  to  the  Yellow  Peril,  these  pages  may 
quiet  some  fears  and  awaken  some  charities. 

The  recent  British  attack  upon  Tibet  is  of  much 
more  moment,  I  believe,  than  would  be  inferred 
from  the  isolated  situation  and  relative  weakness  of 
the  Tibetan  people.  Although  at  this  writing  the 
withdrawal  of  all  British  representation  from  Tibet 
may  seem  to  leave  matters  almost  in  statu  quo  ante, 
it  can  scarcely  be  presumed  that  so  considerable  an 
effort  will  be  permanently  left  without  result.  The 
whole  affair  seems  to  have  been  largely  due  to  one 
man — the  late  Viceroy,  Lord  Curzon.  London  in- 
fluences seem  never  to  have  gone  heartily  into  this 
lamentable  excursion,  and  the  treaty  dictated  by 


vi  Preface 

the  Viceroy  was  emasculated  by  the  Home  Govern- 
ment. But  a  fixed  source  of  irritation  has  been 
created.  Ultimate  re-conquest  by  the  stronger 
party  will  doubtless  be  the  result;  and  permanent 
occupation  of  Tibet,  as  provided  by  the  Curzon  or 
Younghusband  treaty,  will  doubtless  be  established. 
In  such  case  a  new  situation  arises  in  Asian  politics. 
The  two  great  rivals,  Russia  and  England,  will 
knock  at  China's  back  door,  hidden  from  our  view. 

Discussion  of  the  history  and  institutions  of  Tibet 
and  of  the  present  political  situation  occupies  a  con- 
siderable part  of  my  text.  Knowledge  of  the  geo- 
graphical situation  is  of  the  utmost  importance  in 
dealing  with  these  topics.  I  feel  myself  fortunate 
in  that  no  official  obligation  of  any  kind  burdens  me 
in  the  expression  of  the  opinions  that  have  arisen 
from  such  direct  observation  and  subsequent  study 
as  I  have  made.  It  is,  I  believe,  true  that  all  others 
(save  perhaps  Sven  Hedin)  who  have  visited  these 
secluded  regions  in  recent  years  are  more  or  less 
embarrassed  by  some  official  or  personal  ties.  It  is 
not  meant  by  this  to  assail  the  honesty  of  the  views 
expressed  by  the  two  correspondents  (Messrs.  Lan- 
don  and  Candler)  who  were  permitted  to  go  with 
Colonel  Younghusband,  and  who  have  written  very 
interesting  and  valuable  accounts  of  the  historic 
march  to  Lhasa.  Yet  it  may  fairly  be  expected 
that  men  who  have  been  given  such  unique  favour 
by  official  influence  should  either  openly  approve 
the  official  policy  or  maintain  a  gentlemanly  re- 
serve. In  differing  with  the  authors  just  named  as 
to  the  wisdom  of  the  Tibetan  War,  considered  only 
as  affecting  the  material  interests  of  the  Empire,  I 


Preface  vii 

find  myself  in  accord  with  many  opinions  emanating 
from  men  of  weight  in  England.  The  moral  aspects 
of  the  matter  demand  the  deepest  concern  of  all 
citizens  of  the  predatory  states  constituting  the 
"civilised  world."  That  this  particular  war  finds, 
even  in  England,  only  apologists  rather  than  parti- 
sans, must  be  taken  as  a  sign  of  progress  away  from 
violence. 

In  considering  polyandry,  the  peculiar  marriage 
institution  of  the  Tibetans,  I  have  been  led  to 
point  out  the  dependence  of  all  marital  forms  upon 
property  considerations.  The  special  adaptation  of 
Tibetan  unions  (of  various  sorts)  to  peculiar  land- 
conditions  is,  I  trust,  presented  in  a  manner  which 
will  convince  without  offending. 

Perhaps  many  of  those  who  may  read  this  book 
are  less  concerned  than  is  the  writer  about  religion 
in  general.  To  such  it  will  doubtless  seem  that  the 
faith  and  the  works  of  Mohammedans  and  Buddhists 
are  too  frequently  put  in  contrast  with  the  corre- 
sponding elements  in  the  life  of  Christendom.  And 
to  some  it  may  seem  that  this  contrast  is  urged  with 
prejudice  against  the  religion  of  our  Western  world. 
But  prejudice  lies  not  in  the  mind  of  one  who  be- 
lieves, as  I  do,  that  all  thoughts,  acts,  and  things 
are,  alike,  the  creations  of  one  Power.  Hence  con- 
cerning the  philosophisings  which  may  be  encoun- 
tered in  these  pages  only  two  charges  may  be  held 
possible — honest  error  in  the  substance  and  uncon- 
scious faults  in  the  treatment. 

Among  recent  works  (not  given  in  the  bibliography 
of  Tibet  in  the  Encyclopedia  Britannica,  ninth  edi- 
tion), the  following  may  be  mentioned  as  helpful. 


Vlll 


Preface 


Mr.  W.  W.  Rockhill's  Land  of  the  Lamas,  M.  Ore- 
nard's  Le  Tibet,  and  Mr.  Landon's  Opening  of 
Tibet  are  the  most  important  works,  in  English  or 
French,  bearing  on  this  subject.  The  recital  of 
Sarat  Chandra  Das,  an  East  Indian  surveyor  who 
went  to  Lhasa  some  ten  years  ago,  is  of  value  and 
is  in  English.  The  journeys  made  by  Sven  Hedin, 
Welby,  Deasey,  Bowers,  Littledale,  and  Bonvalot 
have  been  also  put  before  the  world  in  instructive 
form.  The  British  Blue-books  are  as  a  mine  of 
wealth — but  the  gold  must  be  separated  from  the 
dross  therein,  which  is  bulky  and  cumbersome  be- 
cause of  the  repetitions  involved  in  printing  hier- 
archical correspondence.  The  British  public  chiefly, 
and  the  general  reading  world  beside,  have  been 
already  stirred  by  the  revelations  contained  in  the 
Blue-books  from  which  considerable  extracts  appear 
in  appendices  to  this  volume.  The  careful  reader 
will  desire  to  be  refreshed  concerning  his  recollec- 
tions of  these  official  recitals;  hence  the  rather 
lengthy  citations. 

It  is  hoped  that  the  Tibetan  songs  appearing  in 
an  appendix  will  be  appreciated,  not  only  for  their 
literary  value,  but  also  for  the  intimate  view  afforded 
by  them  of  the  characteristics  of  a  people  who  are 
as  yet  very  unfamiliar  to  us.  A  considerable  collec- 
tion of  such  songs  has  been  made  by  several  of  the 
Moravian  missionaries  at  Leh.  This  graceful  work, 
added  to  their  more  serious  undertaking,  should  win 
for  these  noble  men  a  general  gratitude. 

O.  T.  C. 

WASHINGTON,  D.  C.,  U.  S.  A. 
September  i,  1905. 


CONTENTS 

PAGE 

CHAPTER  I 

RUSSIAN  TURKESTAN — ACROSS  BLACK  SANDS — FROM 

KRASNOVODSK    TO    ANDIJAN       ....  I 

CHAPTER  II 

ANDIJAN    TO    KASHGAR — OVER  THE  HILLS  AND  FAR 

AWAY 23 

CHAPTER  III 

KASHGAR — THE  YELLOW  PERIL — TAOTAI   AND  CON- 
SUL GENERAL 36 

CHAPTER  IV 

KHOTAN — DREAMS  OF  THE  PAST DOUBTS  OF  THE 

PRESENT 52 

CHAPTER  V 
ON    TO   POLU — AND    THE   LURE   OF   THE   UNKNOWN.         64 

CHAPTER  VI 

A   PLUNGE    TO    WHITHER-AWAY — THE    AKSAI    CHIN 

OR    WHITE  DESERT 78 

CHAPTER  VII 

CAMP   PURGATORY — PHILOSOPHY  AND   RELIGION  VS. 

PROBABLE   DEATH KIRGHIZ  SAMARITANS  .          97 

ix 


x  Contents 

CHAPTER   VIII 

PAGE 

GLACIERS,   YAKS,    SKELETONS,  A  LOVE  AFFAIR,   AND 

A  HIGH  SONG  ON  THE  KARAKORAM  ROUTE  .       108 

CHAPTER   IX 

TREES,   TIBETANS,    AND  THE  TELEGRAPH — PANAMIK 

AND  LADAK  LEH I2O 

CHAPTER  X 

LADAK  LEH  TO  RAWAL  PINDI— FROM  YAK  TO  RAIL- 
WAY VIA  PONY  TRAIL,  OVER  THE  HIMALAYAS, 
INTO  THE  VALE  OF  KASHMIR  .  .  .  .131 

CHAPTER  XI 
A    LITTLE    STUDY    OF    THE    MAP         ....       141 

CHAPTER  XII 

THE     TIBETAN     PEOPLE — POLYANDRY    AND     MONAS- 

TICISM 146 

CHAPTER    XIII 
RELIGION          .   -. 167 

/  CHAPTER  XIV 

INDUSTRY  AND  ART TIBETAN  ARCHITECTS CARA- 
VAN VS.  RAILWAY  ......  178 

CHAPTER   XV 

SKETCH  OF  TIBETAN  HISTORY  FROM  MISTY  BEGIN- 
NINGS, 350  A.D.  (?),  TO  JOHN  BULL'S  APPEAR- 
ANCE   185 


Contents  xi 

CHAPTER    XVI 

PAGE 

A    CENTURY    OF    IRRITATIONS — THE    FUMES    OF    THE 

OPIUM     WAR     CLOUD     THE      POLITICAL    SKY    

FATHERS  HUC  AND  GABET  ....       2OO 

CHAPTER  XVII 

CHASTENING  OF  HERBERT  SPENCER — BRITISH  POLICY 
— CONTEST  FOR  A  BARE  BONE PRESENT  PO- 
LITICAL SITUATION 214 

CHAPTER  XVIII 

THE  WOLF  AND  THE  LAMB COMMERCIAL  CON- 
VENTIONS AND  CHRIST'S  CODE  —  WHAT  is 

THE  RIGHT  ?    .  .  .  .  .  .  .       228 

CHAPTER  XIX 
COUNSELS    OF    PERFECTION 248 

CHAPTER  XX 
THE    SACRIFICE    OF    YOUNGHUSBAND WHAT  NEXT  ?       255 

CHAPTER    XXI 
SKETCH    OF    THE    HISTORY    OF    TURKESTAN        .  .       260 

APPENDICES 274 

INDEX 325 


ILLUSTRATIONS 

PAGE 

YAK-CARAVAN  ON  THE  SASER  GLACIER,  IN  A  SNOW- 
MIST,  18,000  FEET  ELEVATION    .    Frontispiece 

IN    THE    HEART   OF  'BOKHARA— "  CITY  WATER- 
WORKS"          6 

Photo  by  Comte  Berlier. 

BEAUTIES  (?)  OF  BOKHARA 10 

THE  BOY-BAYADERES  OF  BOKHARA         ...       14 

ONE  OF  THE  CITY  GATES,  BOKHARA  18 

Photo  by  Comte  Berlier. 

A  SAMARCAND  JEWESS  IN  CEREMONIAL  ATTIRE     .       22 

From  Turkestan  Russe,  by  M.  H.  Kraflft. 

THE  RIGHISTAN,  SAMARCAND        ....       26 

RUINS  AT  SAMARCAND 30 

TAKING  A  REST  IN  SAMARCAND    ....       34 

COMMITTEE  OF  RECEPTION  IN  A  VILLAGE  OF  CHI- 
NESE TURKESTAN 40 

MADRASAH  KHODJA-AKHBAR,  NEAR  SAMARCAND  .       46 
From  Turkestan  Russe,  by  M.  H.  Krafft. 

RUSSIAN    CHAPEL    AFTER    THE    EARTHQUAKE — 

ANDIJAN 50 

IN  FRONT  OF  THE  OFFICERS'  CLUB  AT  OSH  .         .       56 
RIVER  BANK  AT  OSH     ......       60 

Photo  by  Comte  Berlier. 

YOUTH  AND  MIDDLE  AGE  IN  OSH          ...      64 

xiii 


xiv  Illustrations 

PAGE 

TYPICAL  IRRIGATED  REGION  NEAR  OSH         .         .  70 

RUSSIAN  OFFICER  COMMANDING  THE  BORDER-POST 

NEAR  RUSSIAN-CHINESE  FRONTIER          .         .  74 

CROSSING  THE  TRANS- ALAI  MOUNTAINS        .         .  80 

A  COTTON-CARAVAN — TRANS- ALA!  MOUNTAINS  .  84 

A  KIRGHIZ  FAMILY  UNDER  OBSERVATION       .         .  90 

HOLLAND,  AMERICA,  ENGLAND,   AND   RUSSIA  IN 

KASHGAR       .         .         .  .         .         .94 

A  KASHGAR  CROWD 100 

A  MORNING  BATH  AT  KASHGAR  ....  106 

A  BUSY  CORNER  IN  KASHGAR        .         .         .         .no 

KASHGAR  TYPES  .         .         .         .         .         .         .114 

FATHER  HENDRICKS  IN  HIS  PRIVATE  CAR      .         .  118 

A  TYPE  IN  KHOTAN 122 

BUSY  TRADERS  IN  KHOT AN 126 

SPECIMENS  OF  MANUSCRIPT  RECOVERED   FROM    A 
SAND-BURIED    CITY    OF    THE    TAKLAMAKAN 

DESERT 130 

SPECIMENS  OF  MANUSCRIPT  RECOVERED  FROM    A 
SAND-BURIED    CITY    OF    THE   TAKLAMAKAN 

DESERT           .......  136 

CLAY  ORNAMENTS  FOUND  IN  A  SAND-BURIED  CITY 

OF  THE  TAKLAMAKAN  DESERT         .         .         .  140 

OUR  RESCUE  PARTY  AT  CAMP  PURGATORY  .         .  146 

CAVE-DWELLERS  NEAR  POLU 150 

THE  BEG  OF  POLU  AND  CALIBAN  ....  156 

FRIENDS  OF  RAS  WORKE",  ABYSSINIA      .         .         .  162 
Photo  by  Mr.  J.  H.  Baird. 


Illustrations  xv 

PAGE 

A  STIFF  BIT  OF  UP-GRADE  NEAR  POLU  .  .     168 

OUR  GRAIN  TRANSPORT  UP  POLU  GORGE  .  .     174 

RELOADING  AFTER  A  BREAK-NECK  PULL  .  .     180 

THE  AUTHOR  AT  KARAKORAM  PASS      .  .  .186 

CAPTAIN  ANGINIEUR — TAKEN   AT  ELEVATION  OF 

18,000  FEET 190 

THE    PILGRIMS — AT    AN    ELEVATION    OF    18,000 

FEET        ........     196 

SEEKING  A  WAY  THROUGH  UNKNOWN  MOUNTAINS  .     202 

MAN-HANDLING    THE    LOADS.     MIR   MULLAH   IN 

MIDDLE  GROUND 210 

THE  AUTHOR — TAKEN  AT  ELEVATION  OF  18,000 

FEET 214 

TIBETANS  OF  NOBRA  VALLEY         .         .         .  218 

WAYSIDE  TOMBS  (CHORTENS)  IN  THE  NOBRA  VAL- 
LEY          .         .         .         .     226 

A  HAPPY  HOME  IN  TURKESTAN     ....     230 

EXAMPLE    OF    MYRIAD    PRAYER-STONES    (HALF 

NATURAL  SIZE  IN  THIS  CASE)          .         .         .     234 

"  Om  mani  padme  Hun." 

WHERE  WATERED  SANDS  BURST  INTO  LIFE  .         .     240 
TYPICAL  CHORTEN  IN  TIBET          ....     244 

KING'S   PALACE    AND    REMARKABLE    GROUP    OF 

CHORTENS  IN  LADAK  LEH      ....     248 

A  VIEW  IN  LHASA 252 

Photo  by  the  Buriat  Dorjieff.     Furnished  through  cour- 
tesy of  the  National  Geographic  Society. 


xvi  Illustrations 

PACK 

A  CORNER  IN  LHASA 256 

Photo  by  the  Buriat  Dorjieff.     Furnished  through  cour- 
tesy of  the  National  Geographic  Society. 

A  STRUCTURE  IN  LHASA 260 

Photo  by  the  Buriat  Dorjieff.     Furnished  through  cour- 
tesy of  the  National  Geographic  Society. 

TIBETAN  BOOK,  AS  TAKEN  FROM  THE  "  LIBRARY." 

LEAVES  FROM  TIBETAN  BOOK          .        .        .     264 

MAP  OF  CENTRAL  ASIA          ...         .AT  END 
Showing  route  of  Captain  F.  Anginieur  and  Mr.  Crosby. 


TIBET  AND  TURKESTAN 


TIBET  AND  TURKESTAN 


CHAPTER  I 

RUSSIAN     TURKESTAN  —  ACROSS     BLACK    SANDS  — 
FROM   KRASNOVODSK   TO   ANDIJAN 

OERIOUS  changes,  of  international  importance, 
O  are  about  to  be  made  in  Central  Asia,  where 
conditions  are  known  but  vaguely,  except  to  certain 
officials  who  can  speak  only  in  accord  with  the  poli- 
cies they  serve,  and  to  a  few  travellers.  Concern- 
ing the  actualities  in  Turkestan  and  Tibet,  there  is 
an  English  administration  point  of  view — which  is 
loudly  proclaimed;  a  Russian  administration  point 
of  view — which  is  imperfectly  known  to  Western 
Europe;  a  Chinese  administration  point  of  view, 
which  cannot  be  frankly  expressed  by  the  Peking 
Government;  a  Tibetan  point  of  view,  which  is 
vainly  uttered  to  the  unresponsive  snows;  and  an 
independent  point  of  view,  which  I  endeavour  here 
to  set  forth.  When  one  observes  the  activities  of 
three  great  empires,  four  great  religions,  and  a  dozen 
races,  interacting  among  conditions  whose  simplicity 
permits  sharp  definition,  he  may  perchance  see  things 
that  are  somewhat  hidden  in  the  larger,  overwhelm- 
ing world  to  which  we  belong. 


2  Tibet  and  Turkestan 

On  the  map  of  Central  Asia,  not  many  years  ago, 
it  was  all  Turkestan.  Now  it  is  Russian  Turkestan 
and  Chinese  Turkestan.  Soon  it  will  be  simply 
Russia. 

You  may,  if  you  care  to,  get  aboard  with  me  at 
Krasnovodsk,  on  Caspia's  shores,  and  sweep  across 
the  black  deserts  to  Bokhara,  Samarcand,  Andijan ; 
thence  onward,  but  not  by  rail,  to  far  Tibet.  The 
little  special  car  which  you  enter  will  make  us  com- 
fortable enough — that  is,  comfortable  as  may  be  in 
a  July  crossing  of  hot  sands.  I  shall  first  telegraph 
my  thanks,  anent  the  car,  to  the  Russian  Railway 
Minister,  acknowledging  his  great  courtesy  in  car- 
ing for  an  American  traveller  who  has  no  special 
claims  upon  him.  Then  let  me  introduce  to  you 
your  travelling  companions — Captain  Fernand  An- 
ginieur  of  the  French  army,  and  myself.  He  and 
I  have  known  each  other  just  three  days.  We  met 
in  Tiflis,  over  there  in  the  Caucasus,  on  the  other 
side  of  the  sea.  Captain  Anginieur  intends  going 
the  length  of  the  Trans-Caspian  railway ;  and  since 
he  has  heard  of  my  plans  in  re  Tibet,  is  already  re- 
volving a  request  to  his  Ministry  for  permission  to 
go  with  me.  You  are  to  know  him  very  well,  and 
hence  you  will  like  him  very  well.  Meanwhile  he 
helps  to  fill  with  cheerfulness  the  cozy  little  carriage, 
which  contains  a  bedroom,  a  sitting-room,  a  wee 
storeroom,  where  the  moujik  makes  tea,  and  a 
toilet  room  with  a  shower-bath!  Think  of  that,  O 
dusty  traveller,  even  of  the  first  class!  Think  of 
that  and  envy  us,  while  we  vow  many  candles  to 
Prince  Khilkoff,  Minister  of  Railways. 

Whether  the  moujik  stands  up  all  night  in  the 


Russian  Turkestan  3 

kitchen  or  whether  he  sleeps  in  the  narrow  corridor, 
we  know  not ;  he  is  always  at  hand,  always  making 
tea,  which  we  are  always  drinking.  He  is  an  ideal 
porter-valet-cook  combination.  Let  me  present  to 
you  also  Joseph,  our  interpreter.  He  was  found  in 
Tiflis ;  he  speaks  French  admirably,  and  of  Oriental 
tongues,  Russian,  Persian,  Turki,  Armenian,  a  little 
Arabic,  and,  if  there  be  a  surviving  dialect  of  it, 
Chaldean,  for  by  race  Joseph  is  a  Chaldean;  he 
lived  until  recently  in  Persia ;  he  was  educated  by  a 
French  missionary ;  has  journeyed  as  far  as  Kashgar 
with  French  travellers,  and  promises  to  go  there, — 
yea,  even  beyond  Kashgar — with  us.  He  is  a  rather 
weak  little  man,  honest,  I  believe,  and  well  informed 
— altogether  a  superior  representative  of  that  disap- 
pointing class,  Asiatic  Christians.  He  called  me 
"Excellence"  until  he  discovered  that  my  purse  and 
manner  made  no  special  response.  Joseph  is  trav- 
elling second-class,  but  he  is  a  neat  person  and 
does  n't  look  rumpled  in  the  mornings.  He  forages 
at  the  well-appointed  railway  restaurants  which  are 
a  precious  fruit  of  Russian  civilisation.  We  go  for- 
ward to  the  dining-car ;  yes — there  is  a  dining-car  in 
Turkestan!  In  it  are  plenteous  vegetable  soups, 
cucumbers  ad  infinitum,  good  meats,  cold  drinks. 
The  service  is  slow,  but  clean  enough.  Here  you 
meet  the  Russian  officials  and  their  wives  going  to 
distant  duty  in  the  queer  places  which  now  bear  the 
Czar's  yoke  and  enjoy  the  Czar's  peace.  Here,  too, 
you  may  meet,  on  this  particular  journey,  three 
charming  young  French  gentlemen,  who  are  going 
as  far  as  Samarcand,  thence  returning,  and  up  the 
Volga — thence  across  Siberia.  Two  of  them  are 


4  Tibet  and  Turkestan 

Ecole  Polytechnique  men — both  sons  of  prominent 
railway  officials.  Their  culture  is  wider  and  deeper 
than  that  of  young  American  or  English  engineers. 
In  observing  a  given  thing  they  see  more  of  its  re- 
lations with  the  rest  of  the  universe  than  we  ordi- 
narily see. 

You  and  I,  O  Anglo-Saxon  spirit-companion, 
shall  find  that  our  forty-year  wisdom  may  learn 
much  from  twenty-five-year  French  intuition,  and 
we  shall  learn  to  doubt  the  meaning  of  the  word 
"decadence"  as  applied  to  the  ripest  —  but  not 
rottenest — people  of  our  European  world.  A  sug- 
gestive thing  it  was  to  watch  Anginieur  and  these 
other  temperate,  complicated,  critical,  sensitive,  in- 
tellectual Frenchmen  in  their  amused  association 
with  the  lusty,  simple,  strong,  confident,  physical 
Russians.  What  strange  secrets  hath  nature  in  the 
mixing  of  clay  to  make  men !  Some  sure  bond  there 
undoubtedly  is  between  chemistry  and  psychology, 
but  alas!  the  formula  of  that  bond  is  the  Great 
Secret  which  man,  I  think,  shall  never  know.  Thus 
it  was  that  I  could  but  ruminate  and  wonder,  while 
listening  for  hours  to  the  explosive  French  jargon  of 
a  young  Russian  officer,  whose  hairy  breast  heaved, 
whose  bold,  kind  eyes  glistened,  whose  brow  ran 
wet  while  he  drank  at  us,  jested  with  us,  rattled  all 
the  cups  of  the  dining-car,  and  explained  by  his  sole 
personality  the  measureless  strength  of  his  people. 
A  mere  commentary  on  this  personality  seemed  the 
conquered  deserts  through  whose  heats  we  travelled, 
— whose  children  we  saw  quietly  gathered  at  the 
stations  which  had  been  battle-fields  whereon  the 
Cossack  Christ  overcame  the  Turcoman  Mahomet. 


Russian  Turkestan  5 

When  the  great  bridge  across  the  Amou  Daria — 
the  classic  Oxus — has  been  passed,  when  our  re- 
luctant eyes  have  again  turned  from  its  cool  flow  to 
the  dark,  hot  sands,  the  Russian  officer  recalls  to  us 
the  hardship  his  people  suffered  in  constructing  this 
railway,  which  is  a  mighty  engine  of  war,  and  a 
yet  stronger  implement  for  peace.  The  Oxus  once 
flowed  to  the  Caspian  Sea — but  the  Amou  Daria 
flows  to  the  Aral  basin ;  truly  an  erratic,  radical 
change  to  be  made  by  a  great,  dignified  river.  Yet 
not  less  radical  has  been  the  change  in  the  political 
destiny  of  all  the  vast  region  which  the  river  trav- 
erses. And  as  there  is  now  no  other  basin  to 
which  it  would  seem  possible  that  its  waters  could 
run,  so  there  seems  no  other  power  than  Russia 
which  could  govern  this  Central  Asian  region. 
Neither  of  these  parallel  propositions  shall  here  be 
argued  at  length,  but  a  relief  map  and  a  skeleton 
history  would  establish  both. 

Bokhara  is  our  first  halting-place.  We  find  and 
monopolise  the  three  rooms  of  a  decent  boarding- 
house  near  the  station,  in  the  small  Russian 
settlement.  Here  is  the  residence  of  the  Czar's 
representative  who  "advises  "  the  Emir — and  whose 
advice  is  so  singularly  sound  that  it  is  always 
followed.  The  relation  thus  established  is  one  of 
the  oldest  in  political  history,  and  may  safely  be 
recommended  to  any  strong  power  desiring  to  econ- 
omise its  strength,  while  never  ceasing  to  threaten 
and  "protect  "  the  weaker  one. 

From  the  Russian  town  we  drive  over  to  the 
native  city  —  fifty  thousand  people  or  more  pro- 
tected by  several  miles  of  sand  from  the  rush  of  the 


6  Tibet  and  Turkestan 

desecrating  locomotive.  The  bazaars  are  like  ani- 
mated tunnels,  being  narrow  streets  covered  over 
with  matting  or  boughs  that  the  sun's  intemperate 
rays  may  not  burn  up  the  busy  movement  of  parti- 
coloured people  who  patter  back  and  forth,  passing 
the  squatting  merchants.  You  enter  by  way  of 
melons — quantities  of  them,  on  both  sides  the  big 
city  gate;  you  progress  through  brass-work,  iron- 
mongery, saddlery,  butchery,  cookery;  then  you 
are  in  a  sort  of  focus  of  bazaars,  and  the  appetising 
fumes  from  open-air  restaurants  may  float  tempta- 
tion in  half-a-dozen  directions.  Near  by  are  sweet- 
meats, then  brilliant  skullcaps,  then  European 
calicos,  then  true,  fascinating  Bokhara  silks;  then, 
around  a  corner,  are  equally  fascinating  rugs,  then 
sweetmeats,  then  spices,  vegetables  and  all  garden 
truck  and  then — and  then — so  it  goes  through  all  the 
series  of  wants  of  this  Mussulman  ant-hill.  Not  many 
women  are  seen,  but  the  colour-effects  of  the  crowd 
are  made  startling  by  the  backs  of  men  clad  in 
gay  hues.  At  the  silk  counters  are  a  few  ladies, 
formless  in  their  all-enclosing  cloaks,  the  long  black 
veils  falling  like  a  great  ink  stain  on  a  coloured  page. 
Through  little  windows  sewed  jealously  in  the  veil- 
ing, or  around  its  perilous  edge,  their  unseen  eyes 
peer  at  the  soft  tissues  of  strange  designs,  and  their 
low,  controlled  voices  urge  a  zestful  bargain  to  tardy 
conclusion, — so  sweet  is  that  universal  communion 
between  Possession  and  Desire.  The  very  close 
concealment  of  women's  faces  seems  here  to  be  pro- 
portioned, when  compared  with  fashion  in  other 
Mussulman  cities,  to  the  reputation  for  superior 
sanctity  so  long  enjoyed  by  Bokhara.  Its  teachers 


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Of  THE 


Russian  Turkestan  7 

have  gone  out  to  preach  the  very  letter  of  the  Koran 
— the  letter  of  rigid  practice  among  the  Faithful, 
and  of  rigid  hate  against  the  Infidel.  Until  the  day 
of  the  railway,  the  European's  presence  in  any  one 
of  Bokhara's  eighty  mosques  (somehow  fabled  to  be 
three  hundred  and  sixty-five)  was  ever  a  probable 
cause  of  riot. 

But  all  this  has  been  changed  by  the  Russians. 
One  is  now  as  safe  in  the  Emir's  territory  as  in  Mos- 
cow. His  army,  which  we  saw  manoeuvring  hand- 
somely under  its  native  officers,  has  been  organised 
by  Russian  advice  and  is  tamely  uniformed  and 
armed  in  European  fashion.  Because  he  feels  irri- 
tated by  the  watchful  supervision  of  the  Muscovite ; 
because  he  is  saddened  by  the  vain  show  of  emascu- 
lated power,  which  is  now  all  that  remains  of  a 
former  omnipotence;  because  he  is  a  lazy  lover  of 
luxurious  ease — for  one  or  all  of  sucli'  surmised 
reasons,  the  Emir  has  left  the  rather  tawdry  palace 
just  outside  the  city's  walls,  and  now  dwells  in  re- 
tirement some  thirty  or  forty  miles  away,  returning 
only  on  state  occasions  or  when  some  unusual  oc- 
currence draws  him  to  his  capital.  We  were  told 
that  such  visits  were  not  relished  by  his  subjects, 
over  whom  the  vestige  of  his  power  may  yet  be 
tyrannically  exercised  in  many  petty  matters. 

One  must  not,  however,  take  too  literally  the 
point  of  view  adopted  by  European  administrators, 
or  their  native  sycophants,  in  a  subjugated  Asiatic 
state.  Practices  that  seem  the  sheerest  abuse  of 
power,  even  to  the  Russian,  may  yet  be  not  disliked 
in  these  communities,  whose  traditions  and  whose 
present  sentiments  we  but  dimly  apprehend.  Nor 


8  Tibet  and  Turkestan 

should  occasional  violence  be  taken  as  conclusive 
evidence  of  a  radically  bad  status.  Were  the  game 
of  interference  played  among  populations  less  pli- 
able than  those  making  up  the  majorities  in  Central 
Asia,  it  would  certainly  be  found  that  the  benefit  of 
mere  regularity  in  a  foreign-born  government  would 
not  be  accepted  as  against  native,  though  violent 
and  tyrannical  rule.  The  truth  of  this  proposition 
has  been  abundantly  shown  in  the  fierce  resistance 
of  Bokhara's  neighbour  state  —  Afghanistan  —  to 
British  or  Russian  domination.  But  the  Turkestan 
majorities  are  sheep-like  people,  accustomed  ever  to 
be  mastered  by  some  hardier,  wandering  folk  from 
the  far  east  plains  of  Mongolia  or  the  nearer  steppes 
and  mountain  valleys  wherein  irrigation  methods 
are  impossible,  and  hence  where  the  struggle  of  man 
for  daily  bread  and  comfortable  shelter  develops 
those  qualities  which  make  conquerors  of  wanderers, 
or  more  yielding  rebels  of  those  who  plough  the 
stiff  soil  for  an  uncertain  crop. 

Not  generally  in  the  study  of  history's  lessons 
have  we  sufficiently  emphasised  the  special  charac- 
teristics due  to  the  unvarying  fertility,  the  enervat- 
ing facility,  and  the  great  vulnerability  of  irrrigation 
systems.  Societies  have  been  divided  into  nomadic, 
agricultural,  manufacturing,  and  commercial  types. 
The  distinction  that  has  not  been  clearly  made  and 
studied  in  its  very  important  results  is  that  which 
makes  a  separate  class  of  the  irrigating  agriculturist 
—  safe  against  climatic  risks;  crowded  in  small 
holdings;  dependent  on  combined  action  for  the 
construction  of  irrigation  works;  the  ready  victim  of 
any  violence  which  seizes  some  certain  ditch.  Con- 


Russian  Turkestan  9 

trast  him  with  his  brother  who  lives  by  the  grace  of 
uncertain  rains ;  forced  to  a  prevision  which  makes 
the  lean  year  borrow  from  the  fat ;  able  to  live  wide 
away  from  his  neighbour,  developing  thereby  an 
independent  individualism  which  may  ripen  into 
civil  order  and  liberty ;  each  farmer  whose  land  has 
its  own  water-supply  capable  of  making  some  mili- 
tary resistance. 

There  is  not  space  in  these  pages  to  develop  an  un- 
familiar principle  which  has  its  demonstrations  and 
applications  in  the  foundation  and  growth  of  almost 
all  human  history.  We  must  ask  a  large  exercise 
of  inferential  reasoning,  based  upon  the  scant  sug- 
gestions which  have  been  outlined,  or  a  large  faith 
on  the  part  of  those  whose  tastes  refuse  to  drudge 
the  details  out  of  which  generalisations  are  made. 
To  leave  this  subject,  without  leaving  the  country 
through  which  our  journey  now  takes  us,  is  hard 
indeed;  yet  it  is  a  duty  which  one  owes  to  the 
general  reader,  who,  according  to  all  sound  morality, 
should  not  be  dragooned  into  being  a  specialist.  Let 
it  go  at  this — the  dense,  settled  populations  of  culti- 
vators and  small  tradesmen  in  all  the  great  artificial 
oases  of  Turkestan  (Russian  and  Chinese)  are  like 
so  many  fat  sheep  when  viewed  by  predatory  wolves 
such  as  you  and  I,  or  such  as  the  fierce  mountain 
tribes  or  hardy  nomads.  Down  any  bazaar  in  Bo- 
khara, Samarcand,  Andijan,  Kashgar,  Yarkand, 
Khotan,  you  and  I,  each  armed  with  but  a  shillalah, 
might  victoriously  drive  the  herded,  happy  people, 
provided  always  that  there  chanced  not  to  be  within 
the  herd  some  Kirghiz,  mountain  Afghan,  or  no- 
mad Turcoman.  What  you  and  I  can  do  others 


io  Tibet  and  Turkestan 

have  done — and  thus  the  checkered  history  of  Cen- 
tral Asia  and  India  has  been  written  for  lo !  these 
many  centuries.1 

Again  we  rumble  over  black  sands,  leaving  the 
gardens  and  groves  of  Bokhara  behind  us.  We 
have  seen  the  city  as  Alexander  saw  it,  save  that  it 
was  larger,  I  think,  in  his  day,  and  perhaps  there 
were  no  cotton-fields  round  about.  Now  we  shall 
see  Samarcand — glorious  from  Tamerlane's  day — 
notable  indeed  when,  as  Marcando,  it  was  destroyed 
by  his  great  Greek  predecessor.  A  little  farther  he 
marched  north-eastward,  but  Samarcand  may  fairly 
be  said  to  be  the  proper  monument  of  Alexander's 
extremest  reach  in  this  direction,  and  only  the  Czar's 
recent  conquests  have  ever  carried  European  arms 
farther  into  Asia's  heart.  Here  also  may  be  marked 
the  western  verge  of  China's  power,  whose  long  arm 
once  reached — only  to  be  withdrawn — toward  the 
great  monuments  which  Tamerlane  had  left.  This 
conqueror,  who  was  of  the  Mongolian,  virile  strain, 

1  The  vast  development  of  irrigation  work  now  progressing  in  the 
far  Western  States  of  America  will  inexorably  produce,  generations 
hence,  a  type  far  less  hardy  in  mental  constitution  than  that  which 
we  now  present.  Were  it  not  that  these  new  regions  are  part  of  a 
vast  country  chiefly  filled  with  people  who  must  fight  uncertainties, 
and  were  it  not  that  no  great  neighbour  lies  close  to  their  irrigated 
field,  we  might  well  hesitate  to  produce  the  conditions  which  shall, 
in  turn,  be  the  source  of  enormous  wealth  and  little  virility.  Meso- 
potamia, Egypt,  Bengal,  Middle  China,  Mexico  !  Since  the  first 
ditch  was  dug  in  your  yielding  soils — how  many  billions  of  slaves 
have  been  engendered,  fed,  and  reclaimed  in  death  by  your  thirsting 
sands  !  How  many  fretting  tyrants  have  come  down,  with  the  fresh 
mountain  dews  upon  their  brows,  to  riot  in  your  slave-breeding 
plains,  and  fatally  to  breed  a  later  race  of  slaves,  whose  necks  have 
also  bent  to  later  mountain  men! 


Russian  Turkestan  11 

put  upon  Samarcand  the  crown  of  empire.  Here 
he  builded — and  some  rulers  after  him — the  great 
mosques  and  tombs  whose  white-and-blue  beauty  it 
is  so  hard  to  suggest  in  words.  Under  their  spell, 
even  an  unimaginative  American  may  feel  the  same 
enthusiasm  which  moved  a  cultivated  French  travel- 
ler, M.  Hugues  Krafft,  to  express  himself  as  follows: 

"Worthy  of  taking  rank  among  the  masterpieces  of 
architecture,  the  'great  monuments  of  Samarcand  '  ought 
to  be  known  equally  with  the  most  majestic  edifices 
of  the  Greeks,  the  Romans,  our  Gothic  cathedrals  of 
France,  and  the  most  celebrated  creations  of  the  Italian 
Renaissance. 


"  Beyond  the  bridge  commences  the  native  city.  The 
shops,  the  tea-counters  follow  each  other,  almost  without 
interruption,  along  a  gentle  rise,  up  to  the  basin  which 
immediately  precedes  the  Reghistan.  Here  one  is  at  the 
heart  of  'old  Samarcand,'  at  the  centre  of  all  the  bazaars 
and  in  the  midst  of  the  population's  most  feverish  move- 
ment. .  .  .  Should  I  live  a  hundred  years  I  should 
ever  retain  the  extraordinary  impression  left  upon  me  by 
the  first  sight  of  the  Reghistan,  with  its  madrasas  and  its 
many-coloured  masses.  .  .  .  The  horses  of  our  light 
phaeton  moving  at  a  furious  gallop,  we  made  way  through 
the  Asiatic  crowd  ranged,  immobile,  on  either  side  of  the 
highway,  and  through  people  on  foot  and  on  horse,  whom 
the  stationed  police  scattered  as  best  they  could.  Along 
the  whole  distance,  the  Sarts,  hands  crossed  on  breast, 
bowed  and  bent  one  after  the  other;  and  I  might  have 
thought  myself  an  Oriental  sovereign  passing  before  his 
subjects,  had  I  not  known  that  these  humble  salutations 
were  addressed  solely  to  my  companion  (the  Russian 


12  Tibet  and  Turkestan 

Governor).  Thus  there  was  a  hasty  view  of  the  Reghis- 
tan  rilled  with  moving  shops  and  with  Mussulmans;  of 
porticos  and  of  minarets  bright  with  shining  faience 
which  glistened  in  the  sun.  Beyond,  there  was  the  first 
sight  of  the  majestic  walls  of  Bibi  Khanim  and  of  the 
innumerable  multitude  which  surged  around  them. 
Then,  still  farther,  the  marvellous  view  which  dominates 
the  plateau  of  Afrasiab  and  the  sandy  slopes  occupied  by 
the  mosques  of  the  Chah-Zindi.  The  impression  which 
I  experienced  from  this  succession  of  fairy-like  spectacles 
was  so  strong  that  I  could  scarce  utter  a  word,  wholly 
overcome  by  an  extraordinary  emotion,  little  guessed  by 
my  companion,  doubtless  long  since  accustomed  to  so 
much  splendour.  How  many  times  since  have  I  seen 
these  scintillating  monuments,  that  motley  crowd,  with- 
out ever  tiring  of  the  sight!  " 

The  most  graceful  of  the  marvellous  structures, 
raised  here  by  a  tyrant's  power,  is  a  monument  to 
the  power  of  a  yet  more  universal  tyrant,  him  whom 
all  delight  to  honour,  the  great  god  Love.  Tamer- 
lane had  many  wives,  probably  loved  many ;  for  it 
is  a  proof  of  a  certain  largeness  of  nature  that  a 
man's  heart  should  go  out  to  many  women,  willing, 
wanting  to  be  loved.  But  chiefly  this  heart  of  many 
mansions  was  filled  by  love  for  Bibi  Khanim,  a  fair 
maid  from  far  Cathay.  And  when  God  took  her 
away  from  the  Emperor,  he  commanded  her  name 
to  be  given  to  this  structure,  great  and  beautiful  as 
their  love  had  been.  Later,  when  mountain  and 
desert  and  river  had  been  crossed,  I  saw  in  the  world 
of  India  another  most  beautiful  monument  to  a  dead 
queen,  who  pleased  another  Mussulman  Emperor, 
and  whose  bones  now  lie  in  the  Taj  Mahal,  at 


Russian  Turkestan  13 

Agra — in  the  Taj  Mahal,  priceless  pearl  of  archi- 
tecture. 

Think  of  it  —polygamous  Asia's  two  most  lovely 
structures  are  monuments  to  the  triumph  of  wo- 
man's charm  for  man.  Can  the  system,  then,  be  all 
unjust,  or  all  unhappy,  or  all  wrong  for  the  given 
conditions  of  climate,  geography,  topography,  and, 
finally,  of  temperament?  Perhaps  so — yet,  then,  a 
wrong  ordained  by  the  Power.  We  of  European 
condition  have  been  made  to  develop  much  mono- 
gamy with  responsibilities,  and  some  polygamy 
without  responsibilities.  Asia  and  Africa  have  been 
made  to  develop  much  polygamy,  some  monogamy, 
and  some  polyandry,  all  with  responsibility.  There 
is  plainly  a  difference  of  social  adaptability — as  there 
are  differences  of  flora  and  fauna.  Let  us  cease  to 
curse  our  divergent  neighbour.  Let  us  cease  to 
worship  tribal  gods,  race  gods,  continental  gods, — 
let  us  try  to  feel  that  all  trees  and  all  men  and  all 
relations  of  things  have  been  made  by  the  same 
power  and  that  they  constantly  obey  it. 

At  Samarcand  Captain  Anginieur  and  I  were 
agreeably  entertained  by  General  Madinsky,  Gov- 
ernor-General, in  the  spacious,  handsome  official 
residence.  His  goodness  took  practical  form  in  the 
gift  to  me  of  an  excellent  Smith  and  Wesson.  So 
perfect  is  the  Czar's  peace,  that  the  General  said  he 
was  tired  of  keeping  a  loaded  weapon,  a  use  for 
which  had  not  occurred  in  many  years  of  wandering 
throughout  Russian  Turkestan.  I  was  glad  to  get 
even  so  small  an  addition  to  my  armory — which 
then  consisted  only  of  one  Mauser  pistol.  The  woes 
are  many  of  him  who  would  acquire  arms  of  defence 


14  Tibet  and  Turkestan 

in  Russia.  The  old  army  rifles,  now  discarded, 
are  tantalisingly  numerous  in  the  arsenals,  and 
tantalisingly  cheap,  if  only  one  could  obtain  per- 
mission to  buy  them.  But  even  for  a  Russian  officer 
such  permission  is  by  no  means  a  matter  of  course — 
and  only  the  War  Minister  may  give  it.  Of  course, 
a  dealer  cannot  handle  military  arms — only  sporting 
pieces  and  pistols ;  perhaps  you  may  buy  the  shot- 
guns (smooth-bores)  without  permit :  for  pistols, 
written  permission  is  required,  and  report  must  be 
made  of  the  purchase.  The  impromptu  is  not  en- 
couraged in  Russia. 

Surely,  surely,  the  Russian,  soldier  or  civilian, 
will  woefully  lack  initiative — surely  he  is  but  a  weak 
competitor  with,  let  us  say,  the  American,  if  meas- 
ured man  for  man  in  the  strife  of  war  or  industry. 
A  hard  saying,  it  may  be  thought,  when  one's  mind 
dwells  upon  the  brilliant  intellects  which  may  be 
met  in  St.  Petersburg,  or  the  faithful,  patient  moujik 
who  is  seen  all  over  the  great  Empire.  A  hard  say- 
ing, it  may  seem,  when  one  thinks  also  of  the  cour- 
teous, watchful,  intelligent  officers  who  administer 
the  wide  lands  through  which  our  journey  takes  us 
— who  have  created  the  substantial  little  white  cities 
that  guard  the  big  black  native  towns.  But  they 
are  too  few — -too  few.  And  it  remains,  that  if  the 
average  individual  were  strong  in  himself,  then  we 
should  not  see  the  cancelled  columns  of  newspapers 
in  hotel  reading-rooms — for  the  man  in  the  street 
would  then  be  wise  enough  to  read  whatever  the 
London,  Paris,  or  New  York  papers  chose  to  pub- 
lish. We  would  not  see  the  Jewish  woman  I  chanced 
to  meet  in  the  Moscow  police  office,  asking  in  vain 


Russian  Turkestan  15 

that  she  be  allowed,  without  special  report  on  each 
occasion,  to  go  and  come  between  the  city  and  a 
near-by  suburb  whither  her  work  carried  her  twice  a 
week;  for  the  average  Russian  would  then  be  able 
to  protect  himself  against  the  Jewish  competition  by 
ordinary  means;  while  now  his  inferior  intelligence 
makes  necessary  the  brutal  methods  of  protection 
which  American  workmen  once  used  against  Chinese 
coolies.  We  would  not  hear  Russian  officers  con- 
gratulating themselves  on  having  duty  in  the  rela- 
tively easy-going  borders  of  the  Empire,  because 
there  excessive  bureaucracy  is  sheer  impossibility. 

It  is  in  these  border  lands,  I  believe,  that  Russia 
will  learn  the  lesson  of  ordered  individualism  which 
shall  transform  and  glorify  her  future.  I  cannot 
forget  the  most  vivacious  Russian  whom  I  met  en 
route  from  Moscow  to  Tiflis — a  young  electrical 
engineer  who  emphasised  the  fact  that  he  was  a 
Siberian,  and  because  of  that  he  insisted  that  he 
could  understand  America.  Nor  shall  I  forget  the 
jolly  station-master  at  Krasnovodsk,  who  refused 
the  fifteen  roubles  offered  out  of  deference  to  the 
false  tradition  which  makes  every  Russian  a  bribe- 
taker, while  he  indicated  that  he  would  accept  a  lot 
of  French  magazines  because  their  outlook  was  larger 
than  the  native  literature.  Nor  shall  I  forget  the 
ladies  in  the  household  of  the  Natchalik — colonel 
commanding  the  Osh  District.  There  were  mother 
and  daughter,  and  two  young  friends  from  Tash- 
kent, capital  of  Turkestan.  One  of  these  was  a 
telegraph  operator — orphan,  of  a  good  family;  all 
three  were  cultured  young  women,  better  musicians 
than  the  average  well-educated  American  girl  — 


1 6  Tibet  and  Turkestan 

speaking  French,  dancing  prettily,  nucleus  of  a  true 
frontier  aristocracy  of  refinement.  They  had  been 
educated  at  Orenburg  in  Siberia,  had  never  seen 
the  Moscow-Petersburg  form  of  Russian  society,  and 
would  probably  marry  officers  or  civilians  who  like- 
wise know  nothing  of  European  Russia. 

So  it  was  in  far  Kashgar.  The  old  retiring 
Consul-General  had  spent  a  lifetime  in  Asia — and 
now,  the  end  of  labour  drawing  near,  he  had  decided 
to  die,  not  in  one  of  the  great  towns  of  the  West, 
but  in  Tashkent,  in  the  very  heart  of  Russian  Turk- 
estan. In  Kashgar,  too,  were  several  civilians  who 
had  never  been  west  of  the  Ural  Mountains.  It  has 
been  impossible  to  subject  those  frontier  folk  to 
Moscow  discipline.  True,  there  is  always  one  re- 
servation due  to  the  very  essence  of  the  Russian 
system,  and  which  sharply  marks  off  any  Russian 
from  any  American,  that  is,  he  rarely  talks  politics 
with  strangers;  never,  at  least,  any  radical  politics. 
He  might — though  this  is  not  on  my  part  experi- 
mental knowledge — question  the  wisdom  of  the  pro- 
tection policy  of  his  Government,  or  any  such  similar 
policy,  but  the  form  of  his  government  seems  to  be 
adopted  as  a  necessary  background  to  life — as  a 
"form  of  thought."  Either  a  loyalty,  almost  uni- 
versal, or  a  fear,  equally  universal  (the  former,  I 
think),  prevents  the  average  Russian  mind  from 
entering  this  region,  mysterious  to  him,  familiar 
and  vital  to  nearly  all  Europeans  and  Americans. 
Once  outside  this  reservation,  these  frontiersmen  in 
Asia  show  much  of  the  self-reliance,  the  mental 
temerity  which  characterise  our  own  frontier,  or  any 
other  frontier  occupied  by  strong  men. 


Russian  Turkestan  17 

Now  the  conditions  of  life  at  the  circumference 
are  unlike  those  at  the  centre;  the  acceptable  social 
organisation  at  St.  Petersburg  is  not  the  same  as 
that  at  Samarcand  or  Irkutsk.  Sacred  as  are  the 
old  traditions  now,  for  the  period  of  expansion  is 
short,  it  seems  that  they  must  be  inevitably  weak- 
ened by  time  and  distance.  Even  now  one  may 
note,  because  this  addresses  the  eye,  that  in  the 
new  cities  men  show  less  than  in  the  old  of  fetish 
worship  for  the  religious  thing  or  priest;  there  is 
less  genuflexion,  bowing,  and  crossing,  but  not  less 
of  morality  in  practical  life.  In  Russia,  the  Church, 
with  all  its  forms,  is  part  of  the  form  of  the  State. 
He  who  finds  himself  unconsciously  drifting  from 
the  one  set  of  forms  is  also  departing  from  the  other. 
If  the  existing  political  body  is  unfit  for  the  devel- 
opment of  a  great  people,  we  may  feel  that  in  the 
ceaseless  extension  of  its  frontier  the  aristocracy  is 
preparing  conditions  which  shall  operate  to  peace- 
fully modify  those  institutions  which  are  inconsistent 
with  reasonable  individual  liberty.  Powerful  as  will 
be  this  retroaction  from  circumference  back  to  cen- 
tre, it  will  not,  I  surmise,  be  of  the  violent  character 
which  may  be  expected  in  the  centre  itself.  For 
these  colonisations  which  have  carried  the  Czar's  flag 
so  far,  are  made  by  men  of  old  patriarchal  customs. 

The  father  has  himself  a  highly  centralised  au- 
thority ;  he  teaches  and  would  enforce  the  tradition 
of  loyalty  to  the  Czar.  Generations  must  pass  be- 
fore you  could  make  a  radical  of  him.  Indeed  he 
might  be  expected  to  indefinitely  propagate  Czar- 
worshippers  if  it  were  not  that  the  frontier  ceases  to 
be  frontier.  It  has  its  big  towns,  in  time;  and  a 


1 8  Tibet  and  Turkestan 

big  town  that  is  vigorous — not  a  Rome  of  the  second 
century,  or  an  Antioch — is  a  favouring  environment 
for  the  liberty  germ.  And  such  movements  as  may 
hereinafter  begin  in  Siberian  towns  will  have,  if  not 
too  radical,  a  support  from  the  farming  class  which, 
in  Russia  proper,  is  almost  wholly  lacking.  There 
the  peasantry  is  a  black  mass  in  which  the  town- 
lighted  fire  must  burn  slowly;  it  is  a  mass  of  coagu- 
lated ignorance  and  superstition.  And  it  is  moulded 
by  the  old  landlord  class,  who  are  not  in  any  coun- 
try good  revolutionists.  In  the  new  Russia  there 
are  more  settlers  who  own  their  lands — they  are  in 
conditions  which  encourage  wide-awakefulness ;  and 
though  the  central  Government  endeavours  to  con- 
trol everywhere  the  consumption  of  that  dangerous 
drug,  education,  yet  it  cannot  wholly  refuse  satis- 
faction to  a  strong  appetite  prevailing  in  a  great 
distant  province. 

The  cause  of  Reform  in  Russia  will,  then,  I  think, 
be  something  like  this:  In  European  Russia,  vio- 
lent explosions  in  cities,  violently  repressed  by  the 
dull  strength  of  the  moujik;  in  Asiatic  Russia,  stub- 
born resistance  against  class  privilege  and  against 
official  tyranny  of  the  irritating  sort ;  finally,  steady 
demand  for  moderate  reform  in  the  direction  of 
local  (provincial)  representative  government,  freed 
from  bureaucratic  veto-power,  which  now  so  largely 
stultifies  the  action  of  various  elective  bodies  in 
Russia.  Indeed  it  is  not  difficult  to  imagine  these 
eastern  provinces  as  being  the  seats  of  progressive, 
almost  self-governing  states,  long  before  it  will  seem 
possible  to  yield  reasonable  quantities  of  reform  to 
the  older  communities,  made  up  as  they  are  of  a 


« 


Russian  Turkestan  19 

thin  layer  of  highly  febrile  material,  overtopping  a 
very  thick  layer  of  an  inert  mass.  But  however 
variant  may  be  the  progress  in  the  Empire's  wide 
stretch,  I  see  nothing  to  suggest  destruction  of  the 
essential  unity  of  that  Empire,  or  any  cataclysmic 
change  in  its  form. 

The  local  irritations  in  Finland,  Poland,  and  the 
Caucasus,  however  justifiable  they  may  be,  cannot 
go  to  the  length  of  establishing  independent  gov- 
ernments in  an  age  which  demands  consolidation. 
Geographic  and  ethnical  resemblances  will  tend  to 
hold  together  all  the  vast  tract  H*om  Moscow  to 
Vladivostok — save  in  the  Turkestan  -region — which 
we  are  now  traversing.  Here,  too,  there  is  basis  for 
unity  of  empire — since  all  these  regions  must  be 
administered  by  the  superior  race,  whose  members 
will  never  be  considerable  in  these  territories. 
They  are  a  common  heritage  to  the  Russian  people. 
When  an  inheritance  is  not  easily  divisible  it  be- 
comes a  force  tending  to  conserve  unity  or  union 
among  its  owners.  While  thus  of  common  interest, 
yet  they  give  political  might  chiefly  to  the  new 
Russia  in  Siberia.  The  best  administrators  for 
Turkestan — certainly  the  majority  of  the  forceful 
ones  whom  I  met,  are  men  who  knew  not  St.  Peters- 
burg. The  case  is  analogous  to  that  which  would 
have  arisen  had  not  Mexico  redeemed  herself  within 
the  last  twenty  years.  Under  pressure  from  our 
Western  States  the  Southern  territory  would  have 
been  annexed,  and,  not  being  ripe  for  amalgama- 
tion to  our  'forms,  would  have  been  ruled  by  men 
from  Iowa,  Colorado,  California. 

The  man  from  Denver  and  the  man  from  Omsk 


20  Tibet  and  Turkestan 

are  better  frontier  governors,  generally,  than  the 
man  from  Boston  or  Moscow.  Whatever  may  have 
been  their  birthplaces,  General  Medinsky  at  Samar- 
cand,  and  Colonel  Saitseff  at  Osh,  remain  in  my  mind 
as  fine  types  of  the  Californian,  less  one-tenth  of  his 
verve  and  nine-tenths  of  his  political  instinct. 

The  Smith  and  Wesson,  silent  so  long,  exploded 
into  a  political  discourse  which  now  is  ended,  leav- 
ing us  free  to  take  train  again  for  Kokand — the  first 
big  town  beyond  Samarcand.  Here  the  Russian 
quarter  is  again  found ;  avenues  poplar-shaded  and 
wide ;  substantial  white  houses ;  public  carriages  at 
the  station  offering  a  somewhat  rickety  service,  but 
cheap  and  rapid.  No  monuments  here  to  beguile 
us,  but  we  meet  a  most  agreeable  Frenchman,  one 
of  several  engaged  in  purchasing  silk  for  shipment 
to  Lyons.  Besides  the  Russians,  they  seem  to  be 
the  only  Europeans  having  business  interests  in 
Turkestan.  The  very  sharp  discrimination  of  the 
Government  in  favour  of  its  own  subjects  makes 
commerce  an  up-hill  work  for  the  foreigner.  The  Ko- 
kand bazaar  is  less  interesting  than  that  at  Bokhara, 
but  in  a  fairly  good  Russian  shop  we  were  able  to 
make  some  purchases  of  dry  groceries  and  canned 
goods,  none  of  fine  quality,  all  quite  expensive  and 
very  Russian.  Joseph  assured  us  that  Osh — though 
thirty  miles  beyond  the  railway  terminus,  would  be 
found  to  offer  superior  stocks  because  of  the  large 
garrison  there,  and  the  fact  that  it  was  a  point  of 
distribution  to  distant  troops.  So  it  was  that  we 
passed  on  to  Andijan, — poor  tumble-down,  earth- 
quake-shaken Andijan, — southwestern  terminus  of 
the  great  Trans-Caspian  Railway. 


Russian  Turkestan  21 

Here  about  three  years  ago  ten  thousand  human 
lives — and  some  dogs  and  horses — were  suddenly 
snuffed  out  because  of  something  which  a  solar- 
system  physician  might  diagnose  as  being  merely  a 
mild  case  of  Asiatic  colic.  Our  Mother  Earth  was 
indisposed,  and  she  swallowed  ten  thousand  of  her 
children  while  shaking  herself  to  rights.  The  death 
of  each  one  of  us,  however  regularly  and  decorously 
it  befalls,  does  exemplify  this  singular  appetite  of 
the  great  mother,  but  an  Andijan  earthquake-feast 
advertises  it,  proclaims  aloud  the  universal  requiem 
"to  dust  returnest,"  and  changes  the  ever-sorrowful 
"  why  "  of  our  yearning  race  into  the  groan  of  one 
who  is  stunned  to  black  unconsciousness. 

In  the  general  ruin  one  sees  the  broken  cross  that 
crowned  a  Christian  church,  and  there  the  muezzin 
tower,  scattered  now  into  mere  fragments,  that,  fall- 
ing, crushed  the  roof  of  its  mosque,  consecrated  by 
generations  of  prayer — cross  and  crescent  alike  gone 
down  in  helpless  confusion.  But  whate'er  betide 
the  dead,  we  know  that  the  faith  of  the  living  faints 
but  for  a  moment,  and  the  yearning  for  help  never 
dies.  So  it  is,  that  now  in  fallen  Andijan,  until  the 
mason  shall  again  lift  the  graceful  dome,  we  hear 
the  prayers  of  the  believers  go  up  from  the  enclosure 
of  hasty  earthen  walls,  through  a  roof  of  thatch, 
half  open  to  the  sky.  And  I  am  awakened  by  the 
early  chant  of  a  Russian  priest  who,  in  his  chapel— 
on  wheels — blesses  the  union  of  two  young  moujiks. 
They  have  come,  ere  the  sun  is  fairly  up,  from 
among  the  long  line  of  railway  carriages  which 
shelter  hundreds  of  their  kind.  They  are  wed- 
ded; and  leaving  the  churchly  car,  while  still  the 


22  Tibet  and  Turkestan 

attendants  chant,  they  stumble  across  the  rails, 
stolid,  apparently  unmoved;  a  few  friends,  smiling 
faintly,  follow  the  pair  with  significant,  but  not  joy- 
ous glances.  Verily  your  Russian  peasant  is  a  mas- 
ter in  concealing  his  emotions — if  he  has  any.  Nay, 
but  he  surely  has  emotions  of  sorts ;  for  this  railway 
chapel  would  not  otherwise  minister  to  people 
shaken  from  their  homes,  and  the  young  peasants 
would  not  have  demanded  the  priestly  blessing  on  a 
venture  to  which  they  are  invited  by  Mother  Nature, 
who  wants  another  crop,  and  another,  and  another 
for  her  perennial  devouring. 


A  Samarcand  Jewess  in  ceremonial  attire. 

From  Turkestan  Russe,  by  M.  H.  Krafft. 


CHAPTER   II 

ANDIJAN  TO  KASHGAR— OVER  THE  HILLS  AND  FAR 
AWAY 

AN  affectionate  good-bye  to  the  special  car,  and 
we  are  off  for  a  day's  smart,  hot  drive  to  Osh. 
We  stop  there  at  the  post-house,  in  charge  of  a 
simple  Russian  whose  sick  wife  looks  on  while  he 
tries  to  cook  for  the  travellers.  That  he  can  make 
chai  (tea)  is  incontestable.  An  all-comprehending 
soup  he  also  makes.  As  to  anything  else,  we  prefer 
simple  fare  rather  than  watch  his  sloppy  prepara- 
tions. The  stable  is  very  near,  the  flies  are  nearer, 
the  smells  are  nearest,  and  the  man's  methods  are 
dirty.  We  do  not  like  him.  Even  his  just  division 
of  labour  between  the  cooking  of  our  dinner  and  the 
washing  of  his  little  child,  insistent  at  certain  critical 
moments,  could  not  disarm  our  hostility.  But  the 
morrow  shall  bring  a  change,  for  we  know  there  are 
Russian  officers  at  the  sobranje,  or  club.  To  these 
we  make  ourselves  known  and  soon  are  invited  to 
make  our  beds  in  a  comfortable  room. 

And  now  we  must  stir,  for  Osh  is  the  limit  of 
wheeled  transportation.  A  caravan  must  be  organ- 
ised. Colonel  Saitseff,  local  governor  at  Natcholik, 
looks  at  a  letter  which  is  addressed,  not  to  him,  but 
to  Consul-General  Petrovsky  at  Kashgar.  It  is  our 
only  authorisation,  and  was  given  me  by  the  Minister 

23 


24  Tibet  and  Turkestan 

of  Foreign  Affairs  at  Petersburg.  We  had  not 
known  that  special  permission  from  the  Provincial 
Governor  would  be  required  for  leaving  Russian 
territory.  Anginieur,  who  has  now  decided  to  go 
as  far  as  Kashgar,  thinks  that  his  quality  as  an 
officer  of  the  nation,  amie  ct  allice,  may  diminish 
difficulties.  There  are  several  days  of  uncertain,  but 
courteous,  negotiation.  Colonel  Saitseff  heliographs 
and  telegraphs.  He  then  calls  to  say  there  is  no  one 
at  Marghelan,  the  provincial  capital,  who  could  give 
the  pass,  but  perhaps  a  personal  note  from  him 
will  be  accepted  by  the  Chinese  frontier  officials. 
An  hour  later  we  go  to  his  office,  where  his  aide, 
Captain  Kuropatkin,  brother  of  the  famous  general, 
surprises  us  by  saying  that  the  Marghelan  governor 
has  given  consent.  We  are  bewildered,  but  con- 
tent. The  passes  for  ourselves,  our  men,  and  our 
ponies  are  duly  made  out  in  two  languages,  and 
when  we  hasten  to  bid  adieu  to  the  Colonel  his 
daughter  says  he  is  asleep,  but  will  see  us  when  he 
wakes.  A  few  minutes  later  his  wife  says  he  is 
not  asleep,  but  has  had  a  headache  for  several 
hours  and  begs  to  be  excused.  We  are  sorry  and 
ride  away,  never  having  thoroughly  understood  the 
situation.  Yet  eventually  all  went  well.  The  cara- 
van had  been  gotten  together  by  the  authority 
of  the  Natchalik,  who  evidently  kept  its  prepara- 
tion wholly  under  control.  When  the  permission 
to  depart  was  promised  for  a  certain  day,  the 
ponies  were  to  be  had  at  the  moment ;  when  helio- 
graph delays  occurred,  the  difficulty  as  to  ponies 
began;  when  the  delay  ended,  the  ponies  promptly 
reappeared.  Perhaps  the  simple  story  of  our 


Andijan  to  Kashgar  25 

chanceful  meeting  at  Tiflis  seemed  a  superlative 
machiavellianism,  invented  to  cover  some  interna- 
tional deviltry.  The  combination  of  an  American, 
going  as  far  as  he  could  towards  Lhasa,  with  a 
Frenchman  who  thought  he  also  might  make  the 
venture,  but  would  first  go  only  to  Kashgar,  mean- 
time telegraphing  to  Paris  for  further  instructions — 
all  this,  occurring  at  military  Osh,  doubtless  seemed 
to  Russian  official  minds  a  thing  to  outwardly  ap- 
prove and  inwardly  doubt.  However,  we  were  at 
last  able  to  canter  away  from  the  Residency,  hats 
off  to  Madame  and  Mademoiselle,  feigning  ease, 
all  of  us,  as  to  the  Colonel's  non-appearance. 

Our  little  caravan  of  seven  ponies  was  now  well 
under  way :  we  were  off  for  Kashgar,  about  two  hun- 
dred and  fifty  miles  south-east,  in  Chinese  Turkes- 
tan. There  we  must  reorganise,  for  these  men  from 
Osh  would  go  no  farther.  We  had  engaged  a  good- 
humoured  Sart  as  cook  and  general  helper.  There 
were  three  men  to  take  care  of  the  ponies  with  bur- 
dens. We  had  paid  the  proper  head  man  at  Osh 
half  the  caravan  hire,  which  amounted  to  $7.00  per 
pony  for  the  whole  journey.  The  Sart  was  to  have 
$12.50  per  month.  Joseph  was  our  luxury — $2.50 
per  day  and  his  food  while  with  us,  and  half-pay 
for  a  reasonable  period  covering  his  return.  This 
is  princely  hire,  but  what  is  to  be  done  without  an 
interpreter?  Our  food-supply  had  been  increased 
by  the  purchase  of  a  considerable  quantity  of  coarse 
canned  goods,  some  macaroni,  rice,  sugar,  etc. 
Joseph  had  misunderstood  Osh  as  a  market-place, 
and  consequently  we  fared  badly  for  many  days 
thereafter. 


26  Tibet  and  Turkestan 

Just  as  we  rode  away  I  went  to  the  postmaster, 
making  what  I  thought  to  be  a  very  clear  arrange- 
ment as  to  the  forwarding  by  next  carrier  of  my 
chronometer  (of  the  montre-torpilleur  type),  which 
had  been  notified  to  me  as  being  at  Andijan  straight 
from  a  Petersburg  dealer.  The  unresponsive  official 
was  asked  to  see  the  Colonel,  if  any  sort  of  doubt 
could  arise  as  to  the  immediate  forwarding;  we  had 
already  wasted  some  days,  were  anxious  to  go  on, 
and  in  a  moment  of  weakness  I  left  the  matter  in 
that  condition.  Just  why  a  man  of  some  experience 
in  travel  should  commit  such  folly  I  know  not.  A 
few  months  later  there  was  full  and  fair  punishment 
for  my  error.  Indeed,  my  whole  experience  in  life 
leaves  me  unconvinced  concerning  the  necessity  of 
a  purgatory — much  less  a  hell — as  a  device  for 
"getting  square"  between  justice  and  myself. 
Even  you,  gentle  reader,  who  may  be  a  profligate 
—  a  seven-ways  sinner  —  could  satisfy  all  of  my 
mind's  requirements  for  justice  merely  by  having 
less  of  heaven,  not  more  of  hell  than  should  fall  to 
your  righteous  pastor,  or  to  myself. 

The  road  was  dusty,  and  it  was  hot,  because  Cen- 
tral Asia  in  July  is  always  hot.  But  our  mounts 
were  fairly  good;  the  country  was  green  all  about 
us  through  the  twenty-mile  strip  of  irrigation ;  the 
people  were  interested  and  interesting.  Altogether 
a  fair  start, — only  the  recollection  of  the  Colonel's 
compound  of  courtesy  and  of  curtness  to  worry  us. 
The  first  night  out  we  slept  happily  under  the 
spreading  trees  that  sheltered  an  old  Kirghiz,  having 
two  wives.  He  was  a  rare  bird,  by  the  way — for  the 
Kirghiz  is  almost  universally  a  monogamic  nomad. 


c 

oo 

bo 

3 


Andijan  to  Kashgar  27 

And  now  comes  the  question  —  how  much,  O 
gentle,  general  reader,  do  you  want  of  detail  about 
a  journey  across  the  Ala'i  Mountains,  from  Osh,  in 
Russian  Turkestan,  to  Kashgar,  in  Chinese  Tur- 
kestan? Half  a  dozen  Russian  telegraph-engineers, 
two  small  garrisons  in  Russian  Turkestan,  one  small 
garrison  in  Chinese  Turkestan, — so  much  for  the 
evidences  of  fixed  civilisation  along  the  two  hundred 
miles  of  caravan  route  between  the  suburban  villages 
of  Osh  and  those  of  Kashgar.  The  Chinese  frontier 
officer  was  more  polished,  less  forceful,  than  the 
Russian  post  commanders.  The  only  native  in- 
habitants seen  were  Kirghiz,  perhaps  a  half-dozen 
groups  of  tents,  three  or  four  in  a  group.  We  slept 
at  times  in  these  yurtes,  smoky  and  smelly  enough 
to  make  us  prefer  open-air  beds  except  at  most 
freezing  elevations.  The  pasturage  near  the  caravan 
route  seemed  not  to  be  used  to  its  full  capacity. 
Joseph  was  told  by  the  Sart  that  the  Kirghiz  com- 
plained of  being  forced  by  Russian  soldiers  to  sell 
sheep  for  less  than  their  proper  value.  Hence,  he 
said,  they  had  retired  to  secluded  valleys.  We 
passed  many  caravans,  chiefly  those  bearing  diminu- 
tive bales  of  raw  cotton,  trifles  hoisted  over  the 
mountains  by  a  toss  of  the  horns  of  bulls  rampant 
in  New  York  and  New  Orleans — for  surely  nothing 
less  than  fifteen  cents  per  pound  could  pay  such 
toilsome  transportation. 

At  the  top  of  the  Taldyk  Pass,  11,800  feet  above 
sea,  we  gave  thanks  to  the  Russian  engineer  who 
had  smoothed  the  zigzag  route,  and  memorial- 
ised himself  in  stone  at  the  dizzy  top.  Here  the 
complacent  and  prophetic  Slav  may  widely  gaze 


OF  THE 

31tY 


28  Tibet  and  Turkestan 

upon  mountain-desert,  already  won,  and,  eastward, 
sweep  horizons  which  still  salute  the  throne  of  far 
Pekin.  Unless  your  mind  be  wholly  given  to  con- 
templation of  things  abstract  and  general,  or  to 
things  concrete  and  narrowly  personal,  you  must 
feel  something  of  thrill  when,  after  Taldyk's  descent, 
you  stumble  into  the  first  Chinese  station.  The 
simple  Cossack  officer,  with  whom  we  ate  black 
bread  three  days  ago,  was  commissioned  by  a  magic- 
worshipping,  devout  Christian  tyrant  in  St.  Peters- 
burg. This  courteous  yellow  man,  whose  ragged 
soldiers  light  the  way  with  paper  lanterns,  lives  by 
the  breath  of  an  old  woman  who  guesses  at  outside 
things  from  Pekin's  thick-shadowed  imperial  gar- 
den. That  barren  ridge  behind  is  the  political 
ridge-pole  of  Asia.  On  one  side  are  the  electric  light 
and  the  cherished  rifle,  on  the  other  the  fantastic 
lantern  and  the  neglected  battle-axe.  On  which 
side  shall  be  found  the  greater  number  of  units  of 
happiness  per  capita  of  human  beings  I  do  not 
know.  Three  hundred  years  ago  it  would  have 
been  easy  to  say  on  which  side  could  be  found  the 
greater  light  of  human  reason  and  civility  and  worth 
of  all  kinds  save  that  of  savage  strength.  Where 
shall  be  found  fifty  years  hence  the  balance  of  value, 
merely  as  measured  by  European  standards,  we  may 
not  know.  Playing  prophet  is  but  risky  business 
since  Japan  began  using  Christian  devices  and  has 
adopted  our  most  popular  paraphrase  of  the  Sermon 
on  the  Mount,  in  which  "blessed"  is  changed  to 
"cursed,"  and  the  whole  is  spoken  in  sprightly  tones 
by  field  artillery,  accents  given  by  magazine  rifles, 
and  the  gathered  fragments  are  legs  and  arms  disjecta. 


Andijan  to  Kashgar  29 

We  have  now  our  first  experience  in  circumlocu- 
tory interpretation  from  French  to  Chinese.  Joseph, 
receiving  in  French,  transmits  in  his  variety  of  Turki 
to  our  Sart,  who  repeats  in  the  Kashgar  variety  to 
a  local  Beg,  who  roars  it  in  Chinese  to  our  host. 
Joseph's  general  education  may  have  reached  that 
of  a  high-school  boy ;  the  Sart  and  the  Beg  may  be 
classed  as  to  book-learning  among  the  infants. 
When  my  courteous  French  companion  started  this 
sentence  on  its  travels,  ''Tell  him,  Joseph,  that  in 
my  country  we  are  deeply  interested  in  the  phi- 
losophy of  Confucius,  and  are  constantly  increasing 
our  knowledge  of  all  Oriental  classics,"  it  was 
wrecked  at  the  first  station  out. 

Floundering  across  the  Kizil  Zu  (Red  Water)  on 
camels,  our  ponies  swimming  free;  drinking  cool, 
acrid  Kumyss  on  the  hot  mountain-side,  frightening 
the  upstart  marmots  into  their  underground  homes; 
urging  vainly  the  Sart  to  use  his  falsely  credited  art 
as  cook ;  encouraging  and  scolding  the  inept  Joseph, 
whose  lantern  jaws  declared  that  rough  riding  and 
doubtful  fare  were  no  longer  possible  for  him — thus 
we  reached  the  villages  which  announced  Kashgar, 
still  three  days  distant.  Food  was  again  plentiful 
— chicken,  eggs,  sheep,  fruit  and  melons  now  re- 
freshed rebellious  stomachs,  giving  complete  inde- 
pendence of  the  deceptive  Sart.  The  Turki  people 
were  curious  and  cringing;  the  Chinese,  masters  of 
the  country,  were  indifferent,  but  not  ugly.  In  an 
earthquake-wrecked  village  we  climbed  to  their  di- 
lapidated little  temple,  whose  gods  had  not  saved 
the  people  from  ruin,  and  were  correspondingly 
held,  it  seemed,  in  light  esteem. 


30  Tibet  and  Turkestan 

The  twelfth  day  brought  its  promised  reward, — 
arrival  at  Kashgar, — historic,  populous,  wide-scat- 
tered. Nearly  three  hours  we  marched  our  dusty 
way,  past  farms  and  villages,  without  interval ;  past 
Mohammedan  cemeteries  whose  coffined  citizens 
were  slipping  down  into  the  great  rut  which  is  the 
main  highway;  past  groups  of  Turki  workmen, 
ditch-digging  under  Chinese  bosses ;  past  a  great  mud 
fortification  wall  into  the  heart  of  the  town,  focus 
of  the  oasis  that  breeds  half  a  million  souls — nay, 
for  what  do  I  know  of  souls? — half  a  million  bodies. 
The  small  ones — this  year's  crop — are  rolling  about 
under  our  horses'  hoofs,  splashing  naked  into  the 
little  ditches  that  wondrously  combine  the  office  of 
aqueduct  and  sewer,  and  in  fatal  rhythm  generate 
and  destroy  the  brown  masses  that  can  surfer,  enjoy, 
and  die.  Looking  at  lovely  white  women,  elabor- 
ately covered,  one  may  doubt  a  little  that  crude 
saying,  "Dust  thou  art";  but  here! — Bah!  there  's 
the  dust,  there  's  the  water.  You  feel  that  any  one 
might  have  rolled  the  muck  into  the  little  bifurcated 
trunks  which  sprawl  everywhere  in  the  spawning 
sun. 

And  now  where  shall  we  go  ?  Caravanserais  there 
doubtless  are,  but  that  Europeans  should  lodge 
among  natives  —  that  is  infra  dig.,  super-dirty, 
vexatious  to  all.  Ordinarily  you  go  to  any  resi- 
dent European,  if  such  there  be,  and  ask  advice; 
or,  if  you  know  him,  you  bluntly  ask  a  roof.  My 
letter  to  M.  Petrovsky  should  help  us;  and  as  to 
Anginieur,  is  not  France  friend  and  ally  to  great 
Russia?  The  caravan  is  discreetly  halted  a  little 
way  from  the  consular  compound.  We  enter,  are 


en 
C 

I 


Andijan  to  Kashgar  31 

shuffled  about  by  a  loutish  soldier,  whom  finally  we 
browbeat  into  immediate  delivery  of  the  letter, 
which  goes  not  to  M.  Petrovsky,  who  is  old  and 
wisely  sleeps  at  2  P.M.,  but  to  his  assistant,  a  young 
officer,  fortunately  speaking  French.  We  are  court- 
eously received.  Our  host  is  evidently  embarrassed 
when  we  ask  about  quarters ;  at  last,  he  helplessly 
asks  if  we  know  Colonel  Miles,  the  British  repre- 
sentative. "No,"  I  reply,  "but  of  course  we  shall; 
and  may  he  not  be  able  to  direct  us  to  quarters?" 
"Yes  indeed!" — This  said  rather  eagerly  sent  us 
straight  to  our  impatient  caravan.  Again  we  thread 
through  narrow  bazaars,  defenceless  gates  and  blind 
alleys,  until  the  British  compound  is  reached. 
What  moral  and  physical  security  one  feels  on 
reaching,  in  the  earth's  far-away  corners,  Eng- 
land's straightforward  officers,  speaking  one's  native 
tongue!  No,  I  am  not  an  Anglomaniac,  and  I  've 
made  a  fine  list  of  British  faults  waiting  to  be  aired ; 
but  when  I  think  of  Sir  Rennell  Rodd  at  Cairo, 
General  Creagh  at  Aden,  Captain  Harold  at  Zeila, 
Sir  John  Harrington  and  Mr.  Baird  at  Adis  Ababa 
(Menelik's  capital),  Major  Parker  at  Roseires  on  the 
Blue  Nile,  a  lot  of  kind  hearts  at  Khartoum,  Miles 
here  at  Kashgar,  Colonel  Sullivan  at  Srinagar  (in 
Kashmir) — then  I  must  make  sure  that  manliness, 
kindliness,  steadiness,  frankness,  shall  be  italicised 
as  counterpoise  to  various  misdemeanours  which  the 
list  shall  disclose. 

"This  is  Colonel  Miles?" 

"Yes." 

"This  is  Captain  Anginieur,  of  the  French  army, 
and  I  am  Mr.  Crosby,  an  American  traveller.  I 


32  Tibet  and  Turkestan 

have  no  letters  to  you,  Colonel,  but  am  sure  we 
have  mutual  friends  in  London.  We  have  just 
come  over  from  Osh,  and  would  like  to  know  where 
we  may  find  lodging  in  Kashgar." 

"Why  not  stop  here  with  me?" 

"Gladly,  Colonel." 

Such  was  the  beginning  of  a  six  days'  "at  home" 
with  this  sole  Britisher  in  all  Turkestan.  His  mis- 
sion is  that  of  sentinel  on  the  picket  line  of  empire. 
Uncomplainingly  he  labours  under  the  awkward 
title,  "Temporary  Assistant  to  the  Resident  at 
Srinagar  for  Chinese  Affairs."  And  Consul  General 
Petrovsky  had  a  habit  of  saying,  whenever  questions 
arose  between  British  and  Russian  subjects,  ''Mr. 
Miles,  my  good  friend,  we  shall  discuss  this  matter, 
not  because  you  have  any  official  position  justifying 
a  demand,  but  because  I  like  you."  There  was  un- 
necessary emphasis  on  the  "Mr.,"  for  Miles's  rank 
in  the  Indian  army  is  independent  of  his  temporary 
duty.  Yet,  in  a  way,  M.  Petrovsky  was  right  — 
Colonel  Miles's  civil  title  is  an  absurd  and  embarrass- 
ing one,  save  on  the  theory  that  London  might 
in  some  crisis  freely  disavow  or  adopt  the  acts 
of  an  official  in  Chinese  Turkestan,  who  is  a  mere 
assistant  to  an  official  in  "independent"  Srinagar, 
who  is  in  turn  named  by  an  official  in  Calcutta,  who 
reports  to  the  Secretary  of  State  for  India.  The 
enjoyment  of  such  independence  in  Downing  Street 
may  easily  outweigh  many  years  of  annoyance  to 
the  lonely  sentinel  in  Kashgar. 

Colonel  Miles  helped  us  much  in  finding  men 
and  horses  for  the  journey.  The  latter  are  easy, 
the  former  are  hard,  to  obtain.  The  ordinary 


Andijan  to  Kashgar  33 

Kashgari  is  not  adventurous.  Our  three  recruits 
for  permanent  service  were:  one  an  Afghan,  Mir 
Mullah  ;  one  a  Ladaki,  Lassoo ;  and  one  a  half-breed 
boy,  a  Yarkand-Kashmir  cross,  Achbar  by  name; 
he  came  at  the  eleventh  hour,  was  joyously  wel- 
comed, and  as  an  interpreter  for  many  days  strenu- 
ously tried  us.  His  vocabulary  was  painfully 
extended  from  twenty-five  up  to  fifty  words,  and 
one  blank  stare.  Achbar  was  the  only  human  being 
available  as  interpreter  in  all  the  province  about  us. 
Joseph  was  exhausted ;  he  must  return  to  the  soft 
care  of  civilisation  in  Tiflis.  The  persons  speaking 
European  languages  in  Kashgar  were  the  members 
of  the  Russian  colony :  Colonel  Miles  and  his  moon- 
shee  (clerk),  from  India ;  Father  Hendricks,  Catho- 
lic missionary;  a  Swedish  missionary  family  of 
Lutheran  persuasion ;  and  Achbar,  whose  English 
had  come  from  another  Swedish  missionary,  now 
dead.  He  had  taught  the  boy  to  call  the  Bible 
"Angel  Book,"  and  enough  of  Christian  doctrine  to 
make  of  him  an  indifferent  polytheist,  ready  to  give 
youthful  credence  to  any  set  of  supernaturals  pre- 
sented by  any  respectable  authority. 

With  all  reverence  for  our  Occidental  faith,  it  may 
fairly  be  wished  and  believed  that  Achbar  should 
soon  be  firmly  re-established  in  the  faith  of  his 
fathers,  since,  in  the  nature  of  the  case,  he  could 
never  be  other  than  a  hazy,  slipshod  Christian. 
His  theology  clearly  resembled  his  English.  After 
two  days'  labour  to  teach  him  the  word  "now"  he 
startled  me  by  stolidly  saying:  "You  mean  'at 
present/  And  when  despair  had  come  to  close 
further  exertion  on  the  word  "perhaps,"  there  came 


34  Tibet  and  Turkestan 

quietly  this:  "You  mean  'probably.'  !  So  it  was 
that  all  simple,  basic  ideas  about  God  had  been 
obscured  by  the  good  Swede's  zeal  to  superpose 
Christ  and  St.  John  upon  a  still  vivid  background 
of  early  Mussulman  teaching.  Far  from  the  full 
stature  of  the  ideal  convert  was  Achbar,  yet  he 
seemed  to  be  the  most  complete  accomplishment 
resulting  from  years  of  devout  work  by  the  Swedish 
mission.  One  other,  indeed,  an  humble  Chinaman, 
was  thought  to  be  nearly  ready  to  adopt  definitely 
the  Christian  title,  his  inner  consciousness  being  left 
to  negotiate  a  compromise  like  unto  that  which  has 
already  admirably  conjoined  Confucianism,  Taoism, 
and  Buddhism  into  a  vague  triple  control  of  Chinese 
morals. 

Lassoo,  the  Ladaki,  was,  for  our  purposes,  almost 
pure  gold.  The  ways  of  the  sahibs  were  known  to 
him  as  familiarly  as  his  money-pocket,  for  he  had 
served  in  the  household  of  Colonel  Miles's  predeces- 
sor, who  had  regretfully  dismissed  him  as  discipline 
for  some  wrong  done  to  one  of  his  Kashgar  wives. 
So  it  was,  I  remember,  with  my  caravan  in  Africa 
— the  cleverest  native  of  the  lot  left  Adis  Ababa 
under  some  marital  cloud,  which  should  roll  away 
as  we  wandered  far;  while  he  courted  Danger's 
face,  time  might  heal  the  bruised,  too  numerous 
tendrils  of  his  unbroken  heart.  Must  it  be  ever 
thus?  Must  the  sprightly  and  inventive  mind  be 
found  only  in  the  shifting  lover?  To  us  Lassoo  was 
faithful.  Whether  his  fidelity  ran  to  the  person  or 
to  the  rupee  of  the  Christian  dog,  his  employer,  I 
know  not;  but  he  was  steadfast  and  intelligent  in 
moments  of  great  trial. 


' 
Andijanto'Kashgar  35 

Mir  Mullah,  an  eminently  respectable  merchant 
and  horse-trader,  had  threaded  the  mountain  passes 
of  Afghanistan  and  Hindostan  for  many  years — yes, 
for  too  many  years,  as  the  event  proved;  when 
hardship  and  danger  came  the  old  man's  strength 
wasted.  The  only  valiant  work  he  could  do  was 
that  of  prayer,  while  the  need  was — but  that  is 
theology  again. 


CHAPTER  III 

KASHGAR  —  THE  YELLOW  PERIL  —  TAOTAI  AND 
CONSUL  GENERAL 


ASH  GAR  is  the  seat  of  a  provincial  govern- 
ment  whose  head  is  a  Taotai.  His  power 
extends  to  that  western  verge  of  empire  over  whose 
rough  border  we  have  just  passed.  Among  all  the 
Chinese  governors  he  is  farthest  removed  by  distance 
from  the  source  of  authority  in  Pekin.  To  what- 
ever difficulty  this  condition  may  create  is  added 
that  inherent  in  the  task  of  governing  a  population 
alien  in  race  and  religion,  and  the  yet  greater  diffi- 
culty due  to  the  aggressiveness  of  the  neighbour- 
ing Russians.  Between  the  Taotai  and  the  throne 
there  is,  in  the  official  hierarchy,  one  other  magnate 
—  a  viceroy,  stationed  about  six  hundred  miles  east- 
ward, and  having  all  of  Chinese  Turkestan  within 
his  administration.  As  numbers  go  in  Chinese  pro- 
vinces, this  proconsulate  cannot  be  ranked  high, 
with  its  one  or  two  million  souls,  as  against  an  aver- 
age of  fifteen  or  twenty  millions  for  the  Eighteen 
Provinces.  But  its  peculiar  constitution  and  its 
exposed  situation  must  give  it  importance  as  long 
as  there  exists  in  Pekin  a  government  cherishing 
the  prestige  of  the  Great  Empire.  It  was  through 
this  region  that  Mohammedanism  has  blazed  its  way 

36 


Kashgar  37 

into  China.  The  older  faith  there  is  peaceful,  toler- 
ant; the  younger  faith,  like  its  rival  in  Europe,  is 
virile,  militant,  intolerant ;  whence  great  wars  in 
China  proper,  and  revolt  here  in  Turkestan,  where 
bloody  deeds  were  being  enacted  in  the  self-same 
epoch  with  Gettysburg  and  the  Wilderness.  The 
forty  years  that  have  passed  since  those  great  days 
seem  to  have  worked  out,  in  Western  China,  a  status 
for  the  Mussulman  fairly  satisfactory  to  him  and  to 
his  neighbour.  Doubtless  this  might  also  be  said 
of  the  Turki  Mussulman  (for  his  subjection  to  China 
is  of  long  date),  but  that  here  the  situation  is  again 
made  complex  by  the  " Russian  advance."  The 
importance  and  the  sensitiveness  of  affairs  in  Kash- 
garia,  as  they  are  viewed  in  Pekin,  seem  clearly 
manifested  by  the  fact  that  China  has  built  and 
maintains  a  telegraph  line  from  Pekin  to  Kashgar — 
more  than  two  thousand  miles.  We  were  aston- 
ished to  learn  this,  more  astonished  on  reflecting 
that  this  work,  quite  stupendous  for  China,  had 
been  completed  without  blowing  of  trumpets— in- 
deed, so  quietly  that  many  well-informed  Europeans 
have  never  given  the  matter  a  thought.  It  seemed 
to  me  most  significant  as  to  the  unheralded  develop- 
ment of  material  strength  which  may  go  on  in  China 
when  her  own  scientifically  educated  people,  or  the 
headlong  Japanese,  shall  be  running  in  multitudes 
to  and  fro  in  the  land. 

Invention's  great  miracles — telegraphy,  telephony 
— are  thus  made  an  offering  by  America,  the  young- 
est to  China,  the  oldest  among  great  nations. 
Over  this  desert-spanning  line,  and  from  its  terminus 
at  Pekin,  through  the  great  submarine  lines,  the 


38  Tibet  and  Turkestan 

heart  of  Asia  may  be  put  in  simultaneous  pulse 
with  the  heart  of  America. 

It  is  believed  by  some  that  when  Asia  shall  have 
eaten  of  the  fruit  of  the  tree  of  modern  knowledge, 
there  shall  arise  a  Yellow  Peril,  threatening  the 
peace  of  the  Caucasian  world.  That  some  dis- 
turbance of  the  present  balance  of  things  may  be 
produced  seems  indeed  not  unlikely.  But  shall  In- 
dustry be  affrighted  at  the  prospect  of  the  birth  of 
more  coats,  chairs,  ploughs,  and  loaves  in  a  world 
which  ceases  not  to  find  that  the  appetites  of  men 
(white,  black,  and  yellow)  grow  with  feeding?  And 
if  we  are  really  to  be  overwhelmed,  is  there  not  tariff 
and  non-intercourse  policy  to  keep  us  poor?  Shall 
Morality  be  affrighted  when  mothers,  all  the  world 
over,  shall  hear,  each  the  other's  common  cry  of 
pain  and  common  speech  of  love?  When  Charity  in 
one  clime  shall  hear  and  answer  the  prayer  of  suffer- 
ing in  every  other?  When  Honour  shall  find  a  mir- 
ror, now  held  up  in  East  and  now  in  West,  its 
lineaments  everywhere  the  same?  Shall  Letters  be 
affrighted  when  through  the  magic  of  the  printing- 
press  the  rich  stores  of  temple  and  of  monastery 
shall  be  spread  broadcast  to  feed  and  inspire  thou- 
sands of  hungry  minds?  Shall  Religion  grow  pale? 
Nay,  whoever  hath  the  truth,  let  him  rejoice,  for 
the  way  shall  be  open  to  the  preacher  as  it  never 
was  in  all  our  dream-haunted  past!  It  remains 
that  these  yellow  men,  become  gods  even  as  we  are, 
shall  perhaps  desire  to  possess  us  as  we  now  possess 
others.  They  may  enviously  study  our  accom- 
plished facts  in  India,  Egypt,  Manila,  Algiers. 
They  may  dig  up  the  history  of  the  foretime  dwel- 


Kashgar  39 

lers  in  the  two  Americas.  Yes,  it  is  true,  the  strong 
shall  possess  the  weak ;  to  their  own  good,  we  say. 
Then,  when  we  shall  be  the  relatively  weak,  our 
wisdom  should  be  that  of  submission.  If  out  of 
the  long,  death-like  sleep  of  old  age  in  the  East  (so 
it  seems  to  some  of  us)  there  shall  now  be  born  a 
new  youth,  let  it  attend  our  senile  steps,  if  so  be 
we  are  now  going  a  breaking  pace  which  shall  lead 
to  premature  decay.  But  that  reversal  of  things, 
if  indeed  the  Fates  shall  ever  decree  it,  must  be 
set  off  to  a  date  so  distant  that  wisdom  refuses  its 
consideration,  and  only  jest  or  idle  fancy  paints  the 
picture  in. 

Within  the  interesting  future — say  one  hundred 
and  fifty  years — any  threat  of  a  military  movement 
of  the  United  East  against  Europe  would  result  in 
a  United  States  of  Europe  and  America — an  invin- 
cible, probably  beneficent  union.  One  might  almost 
wish  for  some  high  heat  of  war  to  produce  a  fusion 
in  which  should  be  seared  to  death  many  childish 
differences — childish,  yet  pregnant  with  strife  and 
sorrow.  Let  the  weak  become  strong — 't  will  be 
easier  to  establish  a  balance.  Let  the  weak  become 
strong — 't  will  be  harder  to  make  markets  by  the 
cannon's  roar.  Let  the  weak  become  strong — 
't  will  be  easier  to  stifle  a  national  avarice  when 
its  gratifications  shall  be  made  dangerous. 

Taking  into  account  the  covetousness  and  the 
kindness  that  are  in  us,  the  wisdom  and  the  folly, 
it  appears  clear  that  there  can  be  no  condition  of 
stable  equilibrium  until  there  be  developed  in  the 
great  national  units  a  condition  of  approximately 
uniform  strength — military  strength,  manifest  or 


40  Tibet  and  Turkestan 

potential.  Now,  in  respect  to  military  strength, 
ignorance  of  physical  science  is  weakness.  If  the 
Chinese,  possessing  organisation,  intelligence,  expe- 
rience, patience,  and  character,  but  lacking  science, 
should  be  put  under  European  rule,  it  could  be  only 
temporary  — :  they  would  thus,  perforce,  get  science 
and  be  strong.  They  will  enter  the  syndicate  of 
those  who  rule  the  weak.  And  these,  the  weak,  we 
shall  ever  have  among  us  because  of  certain  ineradi- 
cable climatic  race-differences  which  will  always 
cause  certain  races  to  be  subject  to  their  neighbours 
of  sterner  mould.  The  great  moral  and  intellectual 
qualities  which  have  made  the  Chinese  Emperor  to 
be  the  "Elder  Brother"  to  all  Eastern  Asia  suffi- 
ciently mark  the  potentialities  of  this  powerful 
people.  Until  these  larger  movements,  shall  have 
taken  place  it  is  profitable  to  the  occasional  Western 
traveller  to  study  the  dignity,  the  poise,  the  civil- 
isation of  such  a  man  as  the  Taotai  of  Kashgar. 

To  this  worthy  official  we  paid  due  visit,  interpre- 
tation being  done  by  Colonel  Miles's  cultivated 
moonshee,  a  Mohammedan  gentleman  from  Lahore, 
who  tabulated  his  ancestry  through  the  Prophet  to 
Adam's  self.  Conversation  ran  in  well-worn  ruts — 
health,  age,  number  of  children,  nativity, — present 
objective.  When  I  pointedly  asked  that  we  might 
have  letters  of  safe-conduct  to  Khotan  and  Polu, 
the  old  gentleman  simply  did  n't  answer,  and  soon 
began  sipping  his  tea,  a  decorous  signal  that  the  in- 
terview was  closed.  We  felt  "in  our  bones"  that 
the  cautious  Mandarin  wanted  to  hear  from  M. 
Petrovsky  before  committing  himself.  We  were,  in 
a  measure,  under  Colonel  Miles's  wing,  yet,  as  we 


Kashgar  41 

were  in  no  way  accredited  to  him,  it  was  impossible 
that  he  should  officially  adopt  us  and  ask  the  Taotai's 
good  offices.  The  presence  of  his  moonshee  and  our 
temporary  establishment  in  his  quarters  went  far  to 
give  us  good  character;  yet,  after  all,  we  were  chance 
wanderers,  save  in  so  far  as  the  sealed  letter  to  M. 
Petrovsky  might  give  to  me  the  harmless  character 
of  an  American  citizen  without  a  mission,  while 
Anginieur's  claim  to  be  a  French  officer  entitled  him 
to  a  certain  consideration.  But  whether  our  simple 
story  of  accidental  association  was  believed  by  M. 
Petrovsky  we  never  knew.  In  our  first  interview 
with  him,  before  visiting  the  Taotai,  he  had  seemed 
to  warm  genially  toward  us,  but  utterly  discouraged 
the  venture  up  the  plateau.  He  made  no  offer  of 
assistance  save  that  he  would  write  to  his  repre- 
sentative in  Khotan  to  help  us  there.  Farther  than 
Khotan,  even  if  so  far,  he  thought  we  should  not 
go.  If  by  chance  we  should  reach  the  inhabited 
portion  of  Tibet  he  believed  we  would  be  killed, 
etc. 

Now,  the  old  gentleman's  conduct  was  a  bit  an- 
noying, yet  reasonable  enough  from  the  Russian 
point  of  view.  We  were  fairly  under  some  suspi- 
cion as  to  our  motives,  and  even  if  the  simple  facts 
were  believed,  it  remained  that  our  presence  might 
produce  complications  in  a  region  where  Europeans 
are  events,  and  where  Russia's  present  preponder- 
ance of  influence  has  been  expected  at  any  time  to 
become  Russian  control.  Such  a  situation  is  always 
delicate  until  worked  to  an  accepted  conclusion. 
China  is  still  the  actual  and  effective  ruler.  Great 
Britain  is  still  an  eager  critic  of  all  Central  Asian 


42  Tibet  and  Turkestan 

happenings,  and  ready,  if  to  her  it  shall  seem  good, 
to  write  her  criticism  in  the  blood  of  men.  Hence 
much  discretion,  much  patience  on  the  part  of  Rus- 
sia. The  sixty  of  M.  Petrovsky's  consular  guard, 
and  the  similar  body  strangely  stationed  at  Tash- 
kurgan, — up  there  on  the  shoulder  of  the  Pamirs  a 
hundred  miles  away, — must  idle  away  hours,  days, 
years  perhaps,  before  they  shall  be  told  to  destroy 
the  Chinese  force,  whose  mean  appearance  suggests 
that  butchers  of  men  and  butchers  of  cattle  occupy 
the  same  grade  in  Chinese  philosophy.  The  Tibet 
expedition  of  the  British-Indian  Government  was 
not  yet  undertaken.  Its  normal  effect  would  be  to 
hasten  the  Cossacks'  march  of  conquest  from  Kash- 
gar  to  Khotan,  as  a  reprisal  at  China's  expense. 
But  the  Japanese  war,  on  the  other  hand,  must  tend 
to  check  him,  if  for  no  other  reason  than  that  every 
spring  of  action  in  St.  Petersburg  is  now  bent  to- 
wards Manchuria.  Meantime  it  is  not  to  be  desired 
by  Russia  that  the  minds  of  the  Turkestan  native 
should,  by  intrusive  travellers,  be  disturbed  from 
their  simple  conceptions.  "We  must  be  ruled  by 
somebody.  The  rulers  of  the  earth  are  the  Chinese, 
who  now  possess  us;  the  English,  who  possess 
India,  and  who  do  not  seem  much  concerned  about 
us,  since  there  is  but  one  sahib  here,  and  he  has  no 
soldiers;  and  the  Russians,  who  possess  all  the 
world  to  the  north  of  us,  and  whose  officer,  with 
soldiers  and  merchants  at  his  back,  is  able  to  do 
almost  as  he  will  with  our  Chinese  masters.  Besides 
these  three  great  peoples  there  are  none  other  rulers 
of  men  on  earth." 

Such  being  the  sentiments  of  a  million  or  more 


Kashgar  43 

of  docile  folk  whom  you  would  benevolently  exploit 
by  firm  government  and  an  exclusive  commercial 
system,  it  appears  plain  as  a  pikestaff  that  vagrant 
French  and  Americans  should  not  be  encouraged  to 
spy  out  the  land  and  perhaps  to  create  incidents  out 
of  which  new  ideas  might  be  born.  Would  Cortez 
have  welcomed  independent  English  or  French 
travellers  in  Mexico  while  he  was  preaching  to  won- 
dering Aztecs  the  doctrine  of  his  master's  universal 
dominion?  Would  the  British  have  left  a  free  latch- 
string  to  indiscriminate  Europeans  when  they  had 
undone  the  work  of  Dupleix  in  India,  and  were 
considered  as  special  envoys  of  the  gods,  irresistible? 
Already  the  Russians  have  done  much  political  and 
commercial  pioneering  in  Chinese  Turkestan.  Our 
international  code  gives  them  what  we  call  a  "right" 
to  garner  the  fruits  of  seed  sown  in  wild  places. 

We  watched  the  play  between  Petrovsky  and 
Miles  with  some  amusement  and  much  serious 
concern  as  to  our  plans.  The  cards  ran  to  Miles. 
A  parade  of  other  nationalities  through  Turkestan 
could  do  no  harm  to  British  designs,  which  cannot 
reasonably  look  to  conquest  north  of  Tibet.  And, 
small  as  was  our  individual  importance,  we  might  a 
little  disturb  the  Muscovite  program. 

The  powerful  Consul  General  could  probably  de- 
termine the  Taotai's  mind  for  or  against  us.  As  to 
the  result  we  were  left  in  dangling  doubt  until  the 
very  morning  which  we  had  set  for  our  departure. 
Then  came  the  Taotai's  smug  young  secretary  bear- 
ing letters  which  we  might  present  to  the  Ambans 
in  Yarkand  and  Khotan,  and  telling  us  that  other 
letters  would  be  written  to  the  chiefs  of  nomad 


44  Tibet  and  Turkestan 

tribes  in  the  corner  of  the  plateau  still  under  Chinese 
direct  control.  M.  Petrovsky  also  called  in  formal 
fashion,  mounted  Cossacks  riding  before  and  behind 
a  quaint  low  carriage  which  looked  homesick.  He 
said  that  since  he  had  so  promised  he  would  write  his 
Aksakol  (=zwhite-beard=chief  of  merchants)  at 
Khotan  to  advise  him  of  our  coming.  And,  in- 
deed, the  sleek  Andijani  who  spoke  for  the  Consul 
in  Khotan  was  on  the  qui  vive  and  watched  us  well, 
and  did  naught  else.  Whether  our  later  misfor- 
tunes were  in  any  way  connected  with  the  sealed 
letter,  or  were  caused  by  the  left  hand  of  Chinese 
policy  undoing  the  work  of  the  right  hand  we  never 
knew.  Most  probably  't  was  only  the  duplicity  of 
the  timid  native  Begs  which  undid  us. 

A  pleasant  visit  we  had  from  a  young  Mandarin 
of  great  name,  acting  as  mayor  of  Kashgar,  under 
general  direction  of  the  Provisional  Governor 
(Taotai).  This  young  man  was  the  son  of  a  Man- 
chu  general  who  reconquered,  forty  years  ago,  all 
Turkestan  from  the  failing  power  of  Yakoob  Beg, 
whose  rise  and  fall  make  the  last  great  epic  of  ambi- 
tion which  has  been  played  across  these  sands  and 
within  these  waving  oases. 

While  this  delicate-featured,  refined,  peace-loving 
Asiatic  was  making  his  call,  there  came  another 
caller,  another  Asiatic  (?)  whose  personality,  in  its 
strong  contrast  with  that  of  the  young  mayor, 
seemed  to  present  the  whole  Russo-Chinese  ques- 
tion. He  was  a  captain  of  Cossacks,  who  might 
have  been  the  original  of  the  Russian  officer  in  Kip- 
ling's powerful  sketch,  The  Man  Who  Was.  He 
had  entertained  us  with  song  and  drink,  with  tossing 


Kashgar  45 

us  up  on  the  strong  arms  of  his  soldiers,  who  caught 
us  in  breathless  fall,  as  rubber  balls  are  caught ;  he 
had  reviewed  military  history  in  masterly  order,  and 
in  the  two  languages  we  used ;  he  had  declared,  in 
good-humoured  banter,  that  might  is  right,  that  his 
people  had  the  might  to  take  what  they  wished,  and 
that  they  wished  much  of  Asia.  His  manner  was 
nervous  with  surcharge  of  energy;  his  spirit  was 
vexed  by  inaction.  He  was  impatient  Aggression. 
The  young  Chinese  aristocrat  was  patient  Resist- 
ance, and  between  them  Colonel  Miles  was  interested 
Peacemaker.  A  fourth  characteristic  personality  in 
the  international  good-bye  assemblage  was  Father 
Hendricks,  Hollander  by  birth,  Christian  priest  by 
profession,  Mongolian  citizen  by  love  of  his  heart, 
dweller  in  Kashgar  by  love  of  change,  I  suppose. 
A  good  man,  a  polyglot,  a  missionary  without  fol- 
lowers, a  priest  without  a  bishop,  reporting  only  to 
the  great  one  in  Rome,  and  to  him  only  as  moved 
by  the  spirit ;  a  European  plunged  deep  into  Asia 
for,  thirty  years ;  a  lone  man  dreaming  new  sciences 
out  of  multitudinous  but  inaccurate  data;  hated  by 
Petrovsky  because  he  represented  something  other 
than  Russia;  liked  by  Miles  for  the  same  reason, 
and  because  of  his  goodness,  his  versatility,  and  his 
loneliness ;  loved  by  some  of  the  natives,  who  con- 
sumed his  medicines;  celebrating  mass  on  a  table 
whose  untidiness  measured  the  loss  of  one  Dutch 
trait  by  a  lifetime  in  Asia.  Such  was  Father 
Hendricks. 

If  his  heart  harboured  any  malice,  't  was  some- 
thing impersonal  in  the  way  of  Russophobia — justi- 
fied, he  believed,  by  biblical  condemnation.  "They 


46  Tibet  and  Turkestan 

are  the  cursed  people  of  the  north,"  said  he.  "But 
the  Russians  were  not  known  to  the  old  Hebrews," 
said  I,  ignorant.  "Nay,"  he  answered,  "read  you 
this."  Then  he  must  run  over  to  the  Swedish  mis- 
sion, borrow  a  Swedish  Bible,  and  show  me  Ezek. 
xxxviii.,  1-4,  reading  in  our  King  James  Version 
as  follows:  "And  the  word  of  the  Lord  came  unto 
me,  saying,  Son  of  man,  set  thy  face  against  Gog, 
the  land  of  Magog,  the  chief  prince  of  Meshech  and 
Tubal,  and  prophesy  against  him,  and  say,  Thus  saith 
the  Lord  God :  Behold  I  am  against  thee,  O  Gog, 
the  chief  prince  of  Meshech  and  Tubal ;  and  I  will 
turn  thee  back,  and  put  hooks  into  thy  jaws,"  etc. 
Now  in  the  Swedish  edition,  plain  as  print  can  make 
it,  stand  the  words  "Prince  of  Russ,"  instead  of 
"chief  prince,"  for  reasons  good  unto  Swedish  phi- 
lologists and  unto  all  who  love  not  the  wide-spread- 
ing Slav.1  A  great  comfort  was  this  to  one  whose 
nature  and  whose  creed  forbade  that  he  should  curse 
the  persecuting  Petrovsky !  Behold,  now,  him  and 
his  all  cursed  together  by  Ezekiel ! 

The  indifference  which  marks  the  attitude  of  all 
highly  developed  peoples  toward  religion  appears  in 
the  relations  between  Father  Hendricks  and  the 
various  dramatis  persona  on  our  far  -  away  scene. 
It  is  political  or  personal  sympathy  which  binds 
or  loosens  amity  here.  If  their  national  or  indi- 
vidual interests  chance  to  clash,  no  consuming  zeal 
for  common  Christianity  can  weld  together  the  half- 
dozen  Europeans  found  far  in  a  most  sequestered 

1 1  find  our  English  Revised  Version  also  reads  as  follows  :  "  Set 
thy  face  toward  Gog,  of  the  land  of  Magog,  the  prince  of 
Meshech,  and  Tubal,"  etc. 


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Kashgar  47 

population  of  unbelievers.  The  Christian  official 
will  brother  to  the  Mohammedan  or  Buddhist  more 
firmly  than  to  his  fellow-servant  in  Christ  if  so  be 
that  worldly  profit  cometh  from  the  heathen. 

Now  if  humanity  be  wider  and  more  vital  than 
dogma,  this  subordination  of  creed  to  life  may  be 
accounted  as  progress.  Whether  it  be  so  rated  or 
not,  it  is  undoubtedly  pleasant  to  put  behind  one 
the  dividing  creeds  of  Christianity  and  Moham- 
medanism, and  ride  forth  merrily  as  we  did,  cheek 
by  jowl;  Indian  moonshee,  good  Mussulman;  Chi- 
nese moonshee,  good  Confucian ;  Cossack  captain, 
good  Orthodox;  Miles,  good  Anglican;  Father 
Hendricks  and  Anginieur,  good  Catholics;  Mr. 

(the  Swede),  good  Lutheran;  and  myself, 

good  American.  And  our  parting  was  the  parting 
of  men  who  liked  each  other — of  mutually  helpful 
beings  thrown  together,  thrown  apart,  by  the  Power 
which  made  your  eyes  brown  or  blue  and  your  faith 
whatever  it  may  be. 

Of  this  fraternal  cavalcade  all  turned  back  after 
a  five-mile  gallop  save  the  two  Catholics  and  the 
American.  Father  Hendricks  had  agreed  to  travel 
with  us  as  far  as  Khotan — a  most  fortunate  happen- 
ing. Achbar  was  thus  coached  for  two  weeks  before 
it  became  necessary  to  put  him  into  play;  man- 
darins, merchants,  and  horse-dealers  were  met  in  a 
variety  of  tongues;  our  evening  meal  was  spiced 
with  a  potpourri  of  mechanics,  philosophy,  theo- 
logy, history,  philology,  the  germs  of  which  were 
drawn  from  Father  Hendricks's  Latin  notes.  An- 
ginieur and  I  were  unable  to  assimilate  much  of  the 
classic  original,  being  far  from  our  Arma  virumque 


48  Tibet  and  Turkestan 

days.  But  the  good  Father's  French  seemed  to 
have  taken  on  no  rust  in  Central  Asia,  hence  he  and 
I  were  able  to  dispute  our  radically  divergent  views 
on  nearly  all  abstract  topics,  while  in  philology  his 
superior  wisdom  changed  discussion  into  authorita- 
tive declaration. 

In  such  days  and  in  such  ways  it  is  learned  how 
slight  are  the  material  requirements  for  satisfactory 
existence  in  either  one  of  two  planes — that  of  the 
lazy,  dirty,  sensuous,  or  that  of  contemplation. 
We,  contemplative,  were  happy  in  learning  new 
finite  facts  about  a  part  of  our  earth,  and  in  specu- 
lations concerning  things  infinite,  unknowable;  and, 
being  few,  we  were  free  from  pose,  almost  free  from 
vanity.  The  daily  march  across  the  heated  desert, 
the  nightly  shake-down  in  langar  (empty  road- 
house)  or  in  the  comfortable  mud  home  of  some 
village  notable,  kept  body  and  mind  in  good  me- 
chanical condition  and  produced  a  sense  of  solidarity 
with  stars  and  sand  and  trees  and  men.  Without 
woman,  art,  or  ambition — those  chief  elements  of 
general  life — value  in  living  may  yet  be  found,  for 
a  time  at  least,  merely  in  regulated  exercise  of  body 
and  mind. 

As  for  the  values  given  by  the  lazy,  dirty,  and 
sensuous  life,  they  were  abundantly,  incontestably 
in  evidence  everywhere  about  us.  Leprosy  may 
claim  its  fiftieth,  goitre  its  fifth,  unseen  disease  its 
third,  dirt  its  four-fifths,  political  tyranny  its  nine- 
tenths,  yet  let  me  fill  the  belly,  destroy  ambition, 
and  pour  sunshine  over  all,  and  I  shall  guarantee 
something  that  a  jury  of  wise  men  must  call  happi- 
ness— though  not  the  variety  which  grows  in  New 


Kashgar  49 

England,  yet  a  modest,  evenly  distributed  growth, 
which  might  be  called  "  Asia's  early  and  late  spe- 
cial," and  which,  when  the  years  shall  be  old,  may 
grow  a  little  in  Southern  Europe.  A  nearly  related 
variety  may  now  be  seen  in  Mexico. 

The  cleanest-looking  people,  and  the  handsomest, 
whom  we  saw  in  Turkestan  were  the  Hindoo  mer- 
chants. Of  these  a  prosperous  colony  is  found  in 
each  of  the  three  big  cities — Kashgar,  Yarkand, 
Khotan.  In  the  two  latter,  we  were  met  by  a  com- 
mittee of  these  gentle-folk,  whose  official  leader  or 
Aksakol,  named  by  Colonel  Miles,  prepared  our 
quarters,  sent  us  fruit  and  sweetmeats,  aided  us  in 
purchasing  horses  and  provisions,  and  in  all  ways 
showed  us  as  much  hospitality  as  is  permitted  in  a 
world  of  caste,  which  builds  walls  between  the  most 
loving  friends. 

These  Hindoo  merchants  are  the  bankers  of 
Turkestan.  Frightful  as  is  the  route  which  connects 
Kashmir  with  Yarkand,  it  is  yet  so  much  shorter 
than  the  lines  reaching  toward  the  far  eastern  centres 
of  Chinese  wealth,  that  the  shrewd  celestial  leaves 
the  field  largely  to  his  southern  rival.  Because  of 
the  railway  to  Andijan,  only  twenty  days  by  camel- 
caravan  from  Kashgar,  Russian  goods  and  Russian 
money  are  coming  rapidly  into  competition  with 
Chinese  and  Hindoo  products.  A  branch  of  the 
Russo-Chinese  Bank,  recently  established  at  Kashgar, 
(how  the  world  changes !)  gave  me  Russian  gold  on 
a  New  York  letter  of  credit.  This  Muscovite  move- 
ment, however,  is  slow  as  yet  to  cross  the  sands 
stretching  between  Kashgar  and  Yarkand.  One 
sole  Russian  was  said  to  be  in  the  latter  city, — a 


50  Tibet  and  Turkestan 

cotton  buyer, — but  he  was  some  sort  of  Asiatic 
Russian.  No  true  European  residents  are  found 
east  of  Kashgar.  At  Yarkand  you  are  in  Asia,  rien 
que  qa.  Our  best  acquisition  made  here  was  Mo- 
hammed Joo — Kashmir  man,  Mohammedan  horse- 
trader,  follower  of  Captain  Deasey  in  his  journey 
across  Western  Tibet  and  Turkestan.  He  had  just 
come  down  from  the  Himalayas — a  week's  softening 
in  Yarkand  was  enough  for  such  a  sturdy  traveller. 
Danger  and  toil  at  twelve  dollars  per  month  were 
preferred  to  inglorious  ease  and  nothing  per  day. 
He  and  Lassoo  live  in  our  memories  as  associate 
heroes  and  saviours.  We  learned  later  that  the 
Kashmir  man  generally  is,  in  North  India,  con- 
sidered to  be  a  commercial  craven,  fair  prey  for  the 
warlike  Dogra  people,  who  now  rule  him.  But 
Mohammed  Joo  had  sucked  strength  into  his  bones 
from  a  thousand  mountain-sides.  In  the  morning 
he  rose  with  might.  The  day  was  filled  with  his 
good  counsel ;  by  watchfulness  he  brought  peace  for 
the  night.  Whether  his  heart  would  be  stout  against 
the  glint  of  steel  or  the  loud  report  of  powder,  I  do 
not  know,  but  as  against  the  menace  of  starvation 
and  death  in  loneliness,  his  courage  failed  not.  And 
what  a  master  of  horses!  He  soon  out-generalled 
good  Mir  Mullah  at  every  point  and  modestly  took 
away  from  him,  at  our  direction,  the  title  and  func- 
tion of  caravanbashi.  The  wonders  of  trans- 
portation contained  in  the  history  of  Asiatic  horde- 
movements  become  in  part  understandable,  when 
one  sees  Gordian  knots  untied  without  swords; 
horses  made  to  ascend  impossible  mountains,  yet 
without  Pegasus'  wings;  hoofs  shod  under  con- 


Russian  chapel,  after  the  earthquake — Andijan. 


Kashgar  5 1 

ditions  that  would  discourage  Vulcan's  self;  men 
plodding  across  gasping  deserts,  and  again  across 
shivering  snows  without  the  protection,  in  either 
case,  which  would  be  given  to  a  manikin  in  Europe; 
and  through  it  all  a  patience  which  knows  not 
neurasthenia. 


CHAPTER   IV 

KHOTAN— DREAMS   OF   THE  PAST— DOUBTS  OF  THE 
PRESENT 

REINFORCED  by  Mohammed  Joo  and  another 
f\  helper  (his  pay  was  five  dollars  per  month), 
we  fared  forth  from  Yarkand  and  in  nine  days 
reached  Khotan,  last  of  the  big  oases  in  Turkestan. 
The  two  hundred  miles  intervening  between  these 
cities,  like  the  shorter  stretch  between  Kashgar  and 
Yarkand,  is  chiefly  desert.  The  big  towns  and  the 
little  intermediate  ones  may  all  be  said  to  lie  on  the 
irregular  border  of  the  Taklamakan  desert,  which 
the  general  reader  may  perhaps  best  consider  as  the 
south-western  corner  of  the  Gobi.  The  streams  that 
fall  from  the  Ala'i  and  Kuen  Lun  ranges  crawl  as 
best  they  can  across  the  sandy  wastes.  The  smaller 
are  lost.  The  larger  conjoin  to  make  the  Tarim, 
and  eventually  reach  Lob-nor,  a  great  inland  basin. 
The  towns  are  found  not  far  from  the  mountain 
range,  whose  cold  white  heights  may  be  seen  to  the 
south,  as  one  swelters  across  the  hot  sands.  This 
distant  line  is  about  sixteen  thousand  feet  high,  the 
desert  from  which  we  gaze  is  not  more  than  four 
thousand.  Some  of  the  reaches  of  sand  are  close  to 
forty  miles  in  width — i.  e.y  from  irrigated  tree  to 
irrigated  tree.  In  certain  exposed  stretches  where 
the  wind  has  a  habit  of  putting  the  traveller  into  a 

52 


Khotan  53 

deep  night  of  sand-clouds,  we  found  stakes  driven 
where  the  trail  ought  to  be — a  sort  of  raised-letter- 
print  for  the  blind  and  groping  caravan. 

At  intervals  of  about  fifteen  miles  the  Chinese 
Government  has  had  langars  built,  houses  of  stone, 
without  furniture,  but  offering  welcome  shelter  from 
sun  or  snow  or  sand.  If  near  a  farm,  one  could  buy 
horse  provender,  perhaps  chickens  or  a  sheep.  We 
paid  the  attendant  fifteen  cents  per  night  for  this 
shelter  —  covering  ten  men  and  as  many  horses. 
Generally  the  same  sum  was  paid  as  rent  to  a  private 
owner  for  our  rooms  and  a  court  where  our  men  and 
horses  wei e  lodged.  Chickens  usually  cost  five  cents 
each;  wood  for  cooking  dinner  and  breakfast,  an- 
other five  cents — a  little  more  if  in  the  blank  desert. 
Forage  for  horses  cost  about  ten  cents  per  day  per 
head.  The  scale  of  expense  is  pleasing,  is  it  not? 
Trading  generally  seems  all  retail — straight  from 
producer  to  consumer  without  intervention  of  the 
wholesaler.  The  turn-over  is  quick,  I  fancy.  The 
stock  may  be  incredibly  small.  While  developing 
Achbar's  English  I  one  day  painfully  conversed 
thus: 

"What  did  you  do  before  you  came  with  us?" 

"Merchant." 

"In  the  bazaar?" 

"Yes." 

"Who  bought  your  goods  when  you  left?  " 

"My  brother." 

"How  much?" 

"Nineteen  tenga." 

Now  a  tenga  in  Chinese  Turkestan  is  worth  about 
five  cents,  so  it  appears  that  Achbar's  daily  bread 


54  Tibet  and  Turkestan 

was  made  from  the  profit  on  a  stock  worth  ninety- 
five  cents. 

During  a  bad  quarter  of  an  hour  of  wounded 
vanity,  I  wondered  whether  in  the  universally  re- 
duced scale  of  things  the  native  estimation  of  my 
honor's  worth  had  likewise  shrunk  to  the  dimensions 
of  a  rupee.  It  happened  a  few  miles  out  of  Khotan, 
when  we  were  met  by  a  committee  of  the  Hindoo 
merchants,  all  eager  to  do  honour  to  the  friends  of 
Miles  Sahib,  who  doubtless  were  mighty  sahibs 
themselves.  As  each  man  advanced,  dismounted  to 
my  saddle,  there  were  many  "Salaam,  salaam, 
Sahib,"  and  then  I  felt  a  palmed  coin  drop  into  my 
hand  from  each  welcoming  Hindoo  grasp.  It  was 
instantly  returned,  and  accepted,  without  a  word  on 
either  side.  My  rising  indignation  was  well  dis- 
sembled until  it  quite  disappeared  in  the  light  of  the 
explanation  given  by  Father  Hendricks. 

'T  was  tribute  money  offered  to  their  lord  —  a 
pretty  compliment  of  which  the  most  appreciated 
element  is  the  giver's  confidence  that  the  coin  will 
not  be  kept.  Would  any  save  the  satiated  High- 
born release  the  rupee  in  his  grasp?  What  a  gallery 
of  pictures  was  opened  to  the  mind  by  that  touch  of 
Indian  silver  on  the  palm  of  the  Man  on  Horseback ! 
I  am  no  longer  an  humble,  khaki-clad,  peaceful 
traveller,  with  but  a  dozen  ponies  and  armoured 
only  in  the  courtesy  of  a  Chinese  Taotai  and  of  a 
British  Assistant  to  the  Resident  at  Srinagar  for 
Chinese  Affairs.  Nay,  I  am  a  great  emperor,  my 
name  it  is  Timour,  it  is  Aurungzeb,  it  is  Clive;  I 
am  clad  in  the  dress  of  pomp  and  of  power.  In  my 
hand  is  a  sword  which  drinks  men's  blood.  For 


Khotan  55 

escort  there  rides  behind  me  an  army  in  myriads. 
My  will  is  their  law.  In  my  heart  is  the  lust  of  do- 
minion and  glory.  Suppliant  to  my  knee  are  come 
these  merchants — thousands  of  them — from  Lahore, 
Amritzar,  Delhi,  Lucknow,  Benares,  from  a  hundred 
cities  of  the  plain  are  they  come,  begging  of  me  the 
privilege  to  live,  urgently  praying  that,  for  a  price 
paid  to  me,  they  may  have  their  lives,  their  wives, 
their  children,  their  goods,  all  the  things  that  were 
their  own  until  I  came,  until  in  the  name  of  the 
great  gods  and  by  might  of  the  warriors  whom  the 
gods  gave  me  as  a  sure  sign  of  my  divine  agency,  I 
had  declared  that  the  land  with  all  its  fatness  of 
men  and  of  beast  and  of  grain,  was  mine.  Where- 
upon I  had  killed  many  of  the  men  (what  matters 
it?  they  must  soon  rot),  and  am  now  permitting 
these  to  live,  upon  strict  condition  that  they  support 
myself  and  my  army,  even  as  is  meet  for  the  Heaven- 
born  and  his  friends.  And  in  this  brown  mud  city 
of  Khotan  I  shall  erect  a  great  palace ;  shall  hang  it 
with  silken  rugs,  for  the  Khotanese  slaves  are  famous 
rug-makers ;  and  shall  establish  a  harem  of  delight, 
for  the  women  here  are  reputed  fair  above  the  wo- 
men of  all  the  land.  Thus  it  was  in  the  days  that 
are  now  as  dreams.  Thus  it  is  now.  Thus  it  shall 
be  again.  When  the  great  conquering  lord  is  also  a 
great  administrator,  able  to  make  a  system  by  which 
all  the  rupees  shall  closely  come  to  his  treasury, 
whence  they  may  go  out  as  sufficient  largess  to  the 
small  lords  —  then  are  these  small  lords  men  of 
honour,  like  the  English  officials  of  to-day,  spurning 
the  surreptitious  silver.  If  the  conqueror  knows 
not  the  art  of  the  exchequer,  and  has  not  the 


56  Tibet  and  Turkestan 

practices  of  systematised  official  generosity,  then  the 
small  lord  welcomes  the  furtive  coin,  like  the  Eng- 
lish official  of  yesterday,  the  Chinese  official  of  to- 
day, or  the  American  alderman.  Therefore  the 
Hindoo  who  honoured  me  by  presenting  a  rupee 
which,  he  well  believed,  would  not  lose  the  warmth 
of  his  own  palm  ere  it  would  be  returned  from  mine, 
had  marked  me  as  a  satiated  sahib. 

When  Father  Hendricks  had  explained  that  I  had 
been  complimented,  not  insulted,  and  when  I  had 
come  back  from  meditating  upon  the  troubled  his- 
tory which  the  custom  of  the  tribute  money  sug- 
gested, I  enjoyed  all  the  more  our  cheerful  entry  into 
ancient  Khotan,  survivor  of  many  sister  cities  now 
asleep  under  the  moving  sands.  The  welcoming 
escort,  eight  or  ten  well-mounted,  well-dressed  men, 
galloped  bravely  along,  their  white  turbans  and 
bright-hued  silken  "Sunday  clothes,"  conspicuous 
and  gay  in  contrast  with  the  dirty  cottons  of  the 
increasing  stream  of  natives  flowing  in  and  out  of 
the  busy  central  bazaars.  Quite  in  advance,  with 
much  show  of  zeal  and  authority,  rode  the  Russian 
Aksakol,  an  Andijani,  a  trans- Alai  Turkestani,  and 
here  on  the  dusty  road  to  do  us  honour  and  much 
lip-service.  He  had  gone  even  farther  than  the 
Hindoos  to  meet  us,  had  seemed  to  take  possession 
of  us,  but  we  learned  from  Mir  Mullah,  who  had 
been  sent  on  one  march  ahead,  that  it  was  the  Hin- 
doo, not"  the  Andijani,  who  had  placed  at  our  dis- 
posal a  large  house,  with  garden  and  court. 

The  appearance  of  this  smart-looking  chap,  and 
his  many  protestations,  had  much  surprised  us,  until 
we  learned  that  he  had  been  ordered  by  M.  Pe- 


In  front  of  the  Officers'  Club  at  Osh. 


Khotan  57 

trovsky  to  meet  us  and  offer  his  help.  At  news  of 
this,  remembering  the  cautious,  ineffectiveness  of 
the  Consul  General  at  Kashgar,  we  expressed  grati- 
tude, but  were  the  more  content  to  feel  the  Hindoo 
at  our  side.  Father  Hendricks  was  keen  to  discon- 
cert the  Andijani,  particularly  when  the  latter  prof- 
fered to  present  us  to  the  Amban,  to  his  very  good 
friend  the  Amban. 

"Thank  you,"  said  our  wily  man  of  God,  in 
Turkestani,  "but  he  is  my  good  friend  also — it  is  I 
who  will  present  these  sahibs."  Then,  to  us,  in 
French:  "The  rascal!  He  wants  to  take  you  in 
leading-strings  and  with  blinders,  but  I  am  sharper 
than  two  Andijanis.  It  is  true  I  do  not  know  this 
Amban,  but  his  predecessor,  who  died  suddenly  of 
apoplexy  two  years  ago,  was  one  of  my  best  friends ; 
that  is  enough  truth  for  this  man ;  we  shall  not  let 
Petrovsky  beat  us — we  shall  win  ! ' ' 

We  were  still  uncertain  as  to  whether  the  way 
would  be  left  clear  for  us  to  go  to  Polu,  a  village  on 
the  Kuen  Lun  slope,  and  thence  up  to  Tibet.  The 
Amban  of  Khotan  governed  this  Polu  territory,  and 
we  were  in  his  hands.  What  instructions  had  been 
given  by  M.  Petrovsky  to  his  Aksakol  we  did  not 
know.  Father  Hendricks,  in  the  double  zeal  of  his 
friendship  for  us  and  his  almost-animosity  toward 
the  Russian,  moved  on  the  very  ragged  edge  of 
policy  in  his  rejection  of  the  Andijani's  obtrusive 
aid.  Even  to  his  saintly  mind,  satisfaction  came 
from  pitching  French  invective  in  the  very  face  of 
the  unconscious  Aksakol,  who  curvetted  in  yellow 
silk  dignity  and  drove  the  common  people  before 
our  cavalcade  as  we  splashed  over  irrigation  ditches, 


58  Tibet  and  Turkestan 

crawled  over  the  occasional  fearsome  little  bridge, 
shied  from  a  wayside  beggar,  disappeared  into  the 
man-high,  centuries-old  ruts  which  are  roads;  and 
finally  along  a  well-shaded  avenue,  marked  by  the 
dull  mud  garden  walls,  we  get  into  the  maze  of 
alleys,  paths,  streets,  which  for  more  than  two 
thousand  years  has  been  a  well-known  breeding- 
place  of  men.  From  the  main  bazaar,  where  a 
submissive  but  curious  crowd  can  scarcely  let  us 
pass,  we  turn  into  an  alley,  skirting  an  empty  en- 
closure whose  stench  quite  staggers  us.  We  thread 
our  way  between  lines  of  expectant  horse-holders, 
then  enter  the  gate  of  a  respectable  court,  flanked 
by  roomy  quarters  for  our  men,  and  closed  by  a  re- 
ception platform.  This  is  under  cover,  and  consti- 
tutes the  front  part  of  the  building  in  which  are  four 
good  rooms — the  quarters  for  the  sahibs ;  back  of 
those  rooms,  a  garden  of  fruit  trees  and  some  flowers, 
all  growing  in  thick  disorder.  Personal  cleanliness 
one  does  see  among  high-class  Asiatics,  but  general 
neatness,  order,  decorum,  in  all  surroundings — that 
is  European.  We  were  very  comfortable,  however; 
our  bedding  was  soon  put  in  its  proper  corner,  and 
a  few  rickety  chairs  were  found  for  our  use,  this 
house  having  already  received  Sven  Hedin,  Dr. 
Stein,  Captain  Deasey,  and  perhaps  other  white 
men  before  us.  As  the  two  Americans  (Mr.  Morse 
and  Mr.  Abbot)  who  had  preceded  me  in  Turkestan 
had  not  gone  as  far  east  as  Khotan,  that  ancient 
city  now  felt  its  first  thrill  from  contact  with  the 
Very  New. 

To   fleece   the   sheep  bearing   wool-of-gold   is  a 
hereditary  right  of  all  communities  small  enough  to 


Khotan  59 

be  sensibly  disturbed  by  the  sheep's  demands  for 
food  and  shelter.  Yet  we  think  that  in  Yarkand 
and  Khotan  our  purchases  were  made  at  rates  not 
inordinately  above  the  market.  Our  ordinary  ponies 
cost  an  average  of  about  $17.  For  special  mounts 
of  excellent  blood  we  went  as  high  as  $35,  and  in 
one  case  $50.  Big  coats  of  undressed  sheepskin, 
carrying  the  wool,  cost  about  $2  each;  native  shoes, 
a  sort  of  high-quartered  moccasin,  cost  fifty  cents 
each.  Saddles  of  painted  wood,  with  excellent  felt 
pads,  complete  with  girths,  stirrup,  and  bridle,  cost 
$10.  Pack-saddles,  shaped  like  a  long  letter  U  and 
filled  with  straw  (ah,  how  it  burned  up  there  on  the 
cold  plateau,  when  the  horse  lay  stiff  on  the  sand !), 
cost  about  one  dollar  each.  Wheat  was  approxi- 
mately forty  cents  per  bushel,  and  the  bread  made 
by  the  natives  was  excellent  and  seemed  to  be  abun- 
dantly provided  in  the  bazaars  of  all  considerable 
places.  Meat  also,  in  the  large  towns,  was  appar- 
ently plentiful,  market  and  butchery  being  generally 
combined  in  one  unedifying  shop. 

Silk  carpets,  for  which  in  old  days  Khotan  was 
famous,  are  not  as  fine  as  those  made  in  Persia. 
Even  here  the  mineral  dye  has  done  its  meretricious 
work.  We  saw  a  very  big  carpet  in  the  making  for 
some  equally  big  mandarin.  Part  of  its  hundred 
feet  of  length  was  rolled  around  a  beam  resting  on 
the  ground,  thence  rising  to  a  yard-arm  fixed  athwart 
the  top  of  a  tall  tree-trunk.  Forty  feet  of  width  ex- 
posed a  brilliant  but  well  controlled  design.  The  in- 
dustrious workmen  sit  under  a  rainless  sky  and  quietly 
weave  the  giant  fabric.  What  clattering  of  looms, 
what  paling  of  faces,  what  straining  of  nerves  would 


60  Tibet  and  Turkestan 

be  the  price  of  the  mandarin's  luxury  if  he  and  his 
carpet  were  of  our  manufacture!  Rugs  of  raw  silk, 
not  fine  in  any  way,  and  about  five  feet  by  nine^ 
cost  us  $12  each;  rather  dear,  we  thought.  But  if 
ever  there  was  soreness  of  heart  caused  by  Khotan- 
ese  prices  there  came  a  day  which  salved  and  healed 
it  all,  a  day  when  I  bought  a  mass  of  old  paper, 
mere  scraps  are  many  of  the  pieces,  but  so  old,  and 
so  miraculously  preserved  with  their  messages  from 
the  dead ! 

Dead  twelve  hundred  years  ago  are  they  who 
wrote  the  strange  characters  and  fashioned  the 
strange  clay  heads  whose  images  you  see  in  illustra- 
tions here.  Forgotten  are  the  societies  to  which 
those  dead  belonged.  Buried  in  the  desert  sands 
are  the  cities  in  which  those  societies  dwelt.  Choked 
and  obliterated  are  the  streams  which  gave  to  those 
cities  the  water  of  life.  Can  the  busy,  noisy  present 
spare  a  moment  to  hear  the  story  of  the  silent 
past? 

In  1895-96  Sven  Hedin  discovered  ruins  of  ancient 
dwellings  in  the  Taklamakan  desert  of  Eastern  (or 
Chinese)  Turkestan.  These  ruins  are  in  no  sense 
impressive  from  the  architect's  point  of  view,  being 
quite  similar  to  the  ordinary  Turkestan  dwelling  of 
to-day — plaster  or  adobe  around  wooden  frames. 
But  historically  they  are  of  prime  interest.  For 
testimony  is  thus  given  that  civilisation  once  existed 
in  regions  which  are  now  quite  uninhabitable  be- 
cause they  are  completely  without  water.  As  the 
distance  of  the  ruins  from  present  watercourses  is 
too  great  to  justify  the  supposition  of  irrigation 
ditches  stretching  from  the  one  to  the  other,  we  are 


Khotan  61 

forced  to  conclude  that  the  same  great  sand  move- 
ments which  destroyed  the  towns  must  have  resulted 
in  a  shifting  of  the  stream-beds  which  were  once  the 
source  of  life. 

In  addition  to  the  sites  discovered  by  Sven  Hedin 
in  several  great  journeys,  others  have  been  found 
by  Dr.  M.  A.  Stein  of  the  Indian  Educational  Ser- 
vice. His  admirable  work  at  a  number  of  points 
around  the  modern  city  of  Khotan,  together  with 
the  philological  research  of  Prof.  Hoerule,  now  at 
Oxford,  may  be  taken  as  the  basis  of  a  special  body 
of  learning  which  we  shall  call  the  archaeology  of  the 
sand-buried  cities  of  Turkestan. 

It  may  seem  strange  that  even  in  Khotan  one 
must  be  on  guard  against  forgery  in  ancient  manu- 
scripts. Yet  Dr.  Stein,  by  close  cross-questioning, 
forced  confession  from  a  clever  native,  who  for 
several  years,  and  until" 1 901,'  fed  the  Aksakols,  and 
through  them  the  great  museums  in  London  and 
St.  Petersburg,  with  mysterious  bits  of  yellow  paper 
over  which  the  wise  men  vainly  studied.  They  were 
particularly  puzzled,  and  at  last  made  suspicious 
by  the  fact  that  a  number  of  different  alphabets,  all 
unknown,  were  represented  in  these  cabalistic  writ- 
ings. Now,  alphabets  are  generally  less  numerous 
than  languages,  and  when  Dr.  Stein,  fresh  from  his 
own  personal  unearthings,  saw  that  the  genuine 
manuscript  showed  no  letters  similar  to  those  that 
had  been  coming  from  this  industrious  forger,  he 
was  able  to  confound  him  and  turn  him  over  to  the 
mandarin  for  punishment. 

The  true  manuscripts  are  hard  enough  for  the 
paleographs,  since  they  seem  to  contain,  in  separate 


62  Tibet  and  Turkestan 

pieces,  three  distinct  languages — one  is  Sanskrit, 
one  a  language  simply  called  Central  Asian,  and 
Prof.  Hoerule,  to  whom  I  showed  the  bundle  bought 
by  me,  says  a  third  language,  not  yet  deciphered, 
also  appears  in  some  of  the  fragments. 

Whether  all  the  leaves  in  the  manuscript  as  handed 
to  me  had  been  taken  from  the  same  site,  Father 
Hendricks  could  not  learn.  Those  in  Sanskrit  are 
almost  wholly  Buddhist  sacred  literature,  and  they 
constitute  the  bulk  of  the  whole.  Their  approxi- 
mate date  is  750  A.D.  The  other  fragments  have 
not  yet  been  studied  sufficiently  to  fix  a  date. 

Prof.  Hoerule,  in  the  short  afternoon  which  we 
spent  together  at  Oxford,  was  able  to  determine 
only  this  as  to  the  non-sacred,  non-Sanskrit  pieces 
— that  they  seemed  to  contain  a  contract  for  agri- 
cultural materials.  I  hope  some  of  our  scholars  may 
be  interested  to  probe  deeper.  Prof.  Hoerule  was 
good  enough  to  say  that  he  would  be  glad  to  corre- 
spond with  any  one  desiring  the  aid  of  his  work, 
which  stands  almost  alone  in  this  field.  As  it  is  not 
probable  that  other  examples  of  these  finds  will  be 
seen  in  this  country  for  some  time,  I  have  placed 
these  in  the  Congressional  Library,  with  request  that 
they  be  made  available,  as  far  as  possible,  to  any 
inquiring  paleograph. 

The  discoveries  thus  far  made  indicate  that  during 
a  period  of  about  four  hundred  years  there  was  a 
progressive  diminishment  of  the  habitable  area.  It 
is  ever  shrinking  toward  the  sources  of  the  streams, 
which  find  it  ever  more  difficult  to  fix  a  constant 
course  across  the  wind-swept  sands.  Thus  we  see 
the  desert  as  destroyer,  the  desert  as  preserver,  but 


Khotan  63 

as  preserver  only  of  the  empty  husks  of  that  life 
which  for  a  season  was  permitted  to  flourish. 

These  fatal  movements,  however,  were  not  cata- 
clysmic. There  is  no  reason  to  suppose  that  our 
forgotten  brethren  of  the  destroyed  oases  were 
smothered  instantly,  as  were  those  of  Pompeii  or 
Martinique.  There  was,  perhaps,  time  to  starve 
through  many  years  until,  hopeless,  they  aban- 
doned home  and  farm  to  seek  some  friendlier  spot 
where  they  might  meanly  support  their  diminished 
numbers. 

Some  unconsidered  trifles  they  left  behind,  to  be 
folded  in  the  warm  bosom  of  the  sand  while  the 
centuries  moved  on.  These  we  now  cherish  as 
mementos  of  that  drama,  intimate  to  each  one  of 
us — the  drama  of  human  life  and  death. 


CHAPTER  V 

ON  TO  POLU — AND  THE  LURE  OF  THE  UNKNOWN 

A  CHEERFUL,  probably  a  sincere  individual 
we  found  the  Chinese  Amban  of  Khotan. 
He  urged  us  not  to  go  to  Polu,  the  village  which 
should  mark  the  beginning  of  our  ascent  to  the 
great  plateau.  He  thought  it  foolish  to  try  un- 
known dangers,  when  Ladak,  our  nominal  objective, 
could  be  reached  by  the  arduous  but  familiar  route 
via  Yarkand.  Whether  or  not  we  should  have 
frankly  told  him  that  we  wanted  to  make  a  try  to- 
ward Lhasa,  I  do  not  know.  Father  Hendricks 
thought  not.  He  believed  we  would  not  be  per- 
mitted to  even  start  for  Central  Tibet  as  our  avowed 
objective,  nor,  thought  he,  could  we  try  to  provision 
for  so  long  a  journey  without  arousing  suspicion. 
So  we  talked  Ladak — a  province  once  belonging  to 
Tibet,  now  lately  stolen  away  by  the  Maharajah  of 
Kashmir — and  thought  Rudok,  a  village  in  terri- 
tory that  is  still  Tibetan,  and  where  we  hoped  to 
reprovision ;  and  where,  if  pressure  of  time  required 
it,  Anginieur,  whose  year's  leave  approached  its  end, 
could  start  for  Ladak,  and  I  might  try  again  for  the 
East,  eventually  returning  to  Ladak. 

The  Amban  advised,  but  did  not  command ;  and 
after  a  four-days'  stop  in  Khotan,  we  were  off  one 
fine  day  with  Father  Hendricks,  the  Hindoo  Aksa- 

64 


I 

a 

& 
e« 


<U 


.1 


' 


OF 


•:••-•'' 


On  to  Polu  65 

kol,  and  a  collection  of  Begs  escorting  us  to  a  big 
surburban  bazaar  about  five  miles  from  the  town. 
Then  came  horseback  good-byes,  our  hearts  quite 
upset  at  leaving  the  good  priest  behind  us,  and  we 
were  away  to  struggle  with  the  desert,  the  mount- 
ain, the  deathly  cold,  and  with  Achbar. 

Think  of  it — your  comfort,  and,  as  befell  us  ere 
many  moons,  your  life,  depending  on  the  painful 
marshalling  together  of  about  fifty  words  over  the 
empty  parade-ground  of  a  boy's  mind !  That  we 
came  out  alive  has  been  a  marvel  to  us — that  Achbar 
lives,  is  a  double  marvel. 

'T  was  a  week  to  Polu,  much  like  the  earlier  desert 
march,  except  that  the  oases  became  narrower  as  we 
entered  the  rougher  foot-hill  country,  and  the  human 
type  became  also  rougher  and  more  sturdy.  Those 
whom  we  met  en  route  were  shepherds  driving 
sheep,  goats,  and  inferior  yaks  down  to  the  Khotan 
abattoir.  The  yak  of  moderate  altitudes  is  doomed 
to  slaughter.  His  usefulness  as  a  moving  machine 
is  in  the  high  places.  In  every  village  we  were  hos- 
pitably received,  plenteous  food  was  purchasable; 
often  there  were  offerings  of  fruit,  apparently  with- 
out thought  of  pay.  No  Chinese,  either  official  or 
private,  were  seen  after  leaving  Khotan,  but  the 
Amban's  messenger  announced  our  coming  and  gave 
directions  as  to  our  privilege  of  travel.  The  general 
kindly  conduct  of  the  people  toward  us  seemed, 
however,  to  be  wholly  unofficial. 

In  Polu  we  hurried  our  final  preparations  for  ascent 
to  the  plateau,  spurred  by  fear  of  some  complication 
with  the  authorities,  and  by  desire  to  cover  as  much 
ground  as  possible  before  being  forced  to  make  for 


66  Tibet  and  Turkestan 

the  passes  ere  the  winter  set  in.  Our  haste  was  also 
in  part  due  to  the  mere  fascination  one  feels  in 
affronting  the  unknown — as  such.  Why,  by  the 
way,  may  not  this  sentiment,  of  common  occurrence 
in  respect  to  things  mundane,  offer  an  element  of 
character  which,  if  carefully  "bred  to,"  should  take 
away  all  the  terrors  of  journeying  to  the  unexplored 
land  called  Death? 

The  village  was  not  entirely  a  stranger  to  Euro- 
peans. Seven  years  ago  it  had  sheltered  Captain 
Grombtchevsky  of  the  Russian  army  while  he  sur- 
veyed the  tortured  country  around  it,  possibly 
dreaming  of  Muscovite  empire,  to  be  won  in  peril 
and  suffering  by  a  soldiery  that  thinks  not,  but 
obeys.  Przhevalsky  also  reached  it  from  the  north. 
Both  the  Russian  travellers  considered  the  place  as 
an  impossible  starting-point  for  long  journeying  on 
the  plateau.  Then  the  fated  Frenchman,  Dutreuil 
du  Rhins,  with  his  brave  companion,  M.  Grenard, 
twice  visited  Polu  during  their  unhappy  but  fruitful 
travels.  Captain  Deasey,  in  1901,  again  put  Polu 
on  the  map,  and  as  far  away  as  1886  Carey  had 
descended  from  the  plateau  by  way  of  the  wretched 
river-bed  which  we  were  to  climb.  It  is  this  absurd, 
but  possible,  trail  between  the  plateau  and  the 
lower  desert,  this  slanting  fissure  in  the  northern 
slope  of  the  Kuen  Lun  range,  which  gives  to  Polu 
its  geographic  prominence. 

Even  while  we  were  still  bearing  the  scrutiny  of 
many  curious  eyes,  it  was  announced  that  another 
white  man  was  in  Polu,  and  we  wondered  greatly 
how  this  had  come  to  pass  in  the  very  jumping-off 
place  of  Turkestan,  for  we  had  heard  no  rumour  of 


On  to  Polu  67 

a  European  in  the  hundreds  of  miles  traversed  since 
we  left  Kashgar.  Soon  he  came  to  our  quarters, 
truly  a  white  man,  a  Russian ;  but  whether  a  man 
born  in  Siberia  and  never  west  of  the  Ural  Mount- 
ains, should  be  called  European  or  Asiatic  let  each 
determine  as  he  will.  A  genteel  chap  he  seemed, 
and  kindly,  as  we  had  reason  to  know  when  he  gave 
us  Chinese  money  for  Russian  gold.  His  mission 
was  a  queer  one.  On  the  surface,  he  had  no  other 
occupation  in  life  than  to  astound  the  natives  by  a 
graphophone  performance — a  polyglot  machine  that 
spoke  Russian  mostly,  but  also  gave  echoes  of  the 
Boulevards  and  of  the  Bowery — words  and  music 
that  almost  denied  the  existence  of  the  deep  Asiatic 
world  around  us.  Through  a  clever  Andijani  our 
Russian  friend  seemed  to  be  presenting  the  grapho- 
phone as  a  miracle  of  his  own  people.  No  fee  was 
charged,  at  least  while  we  were  present,  nor  did  it 
seem  possible  that  the  venture  into  these  remote 
and  small  villages  could  have  a  commercial  motive. 
Rather  it  seemed  political  propaganda — eccentric, 
childish,  but  perhaps  effective.  Had  he  been  sent 
by  M.  Petrovsky  to  follow  our  trail  a  bit?  Or  was 
the  probability  of  meeting  him  the  secret  of  the 
Consul  General's  opposition  to  our  eastward  wander- 
ing? Certainly  he  and  the  Andijani  would  not  be 
holding  hither  and  thither  across  the  Turkestan 
desert  without  knowledge  and  consent  of  M.  Pe- 
trovsky. And  then,  when  later  our  troubles  began 
— but  why  speculate  thus  in  the  trackless  air?  More- 
over we  learned,  the  second  day  out,  of  a  sounder 
and  more  familiar  reason  than  political  misgiving  to 
explain  such  double-dealing  as  may  have  been  meted 


68  Tibet  and  Turkestan 

out  to  us.  'T  was  lust  for  gold  that  inspired  the 
first  limping  effort  of  the  natives  to  scale  the  rough 
valley  of  the  tumbling  stream  above  Polu.  Guided 
in  part  by  the  dead  bodies  of  their  predecessors,  in 
part  by  the  dizzy,  man-made  trail,  the  patient  don- 
keys strive  up  and  down  the  gorge,  laden,  down- 
ward, with  the  placer  " concentrates,"  upward  with 
bread  and  tea  for  the  score  or  more  of  Turkestani 
toilers  who  do  the  bidding  of  their  Chinese  masters. 

One  group  of  gnome-like  miners  appealed  to  us, 
through  Achbar,  lamenting  their  enforced  stay  away 
from  the  village,  and  praying  the  sahibs  to  intervene 
with  the  Kitai  (Chinese)  in  their  behalf.  But  the 
men  did  not  seem  hungry  or  overworked,  and  we 
left  them,  absorbed  as  we  were  in  trouble  of  our 
own.  Their  methods,  compared  with  placer  work 
which  I  had  chanced  to  see  in  Mexico,  California, 
and  Alaska,  appeared  very  crude.  The  number  of 
worked-out  pockets,  multiplied  by  their  evidently 
small  rate  of  daily  progress,  attested  long  usage. 
The  village  entrepdt  showed  no  sign  of  garnered 
wealth  from  the  operations,  which  must  be  a  strict 
government  monopoly,  let  out,  perhaps,  on  some 
royalty  basis  to  the  Amban,  one  hundred  and  twenty 
miles  away  in  Khotan. 

Looking  back  now  upon  the  troubles  which  befell 
us  after  our  departure  from  Polu,  and  which  seemed 
to  be  born  of  treachery,  I  am  reminded  of  sim- 
ilar troubles  occurring  when  I  chanced  to  stumble 
into  a  gold-bearing  territory  far  in  the  interior  of 
Abyssinia.  As  in  the  present  case,  I  knew  nothing 
of  the  gold  until  close  upon  it.  But  the  local  digni- 
tary, a  handsome,  courtly  Ras — or  duke — fairly 


On  to  Polu  69 

suspected  me  of  the  universal  cupidity  which  marks 
us  all,  and  felt  that  even  Menelik's  passport  was  not 
sufficient  warrant  for  permitting  a  white  man  to 
enter  territory  theretofore  unknown  to  our  race. 
Fearing  to  contravene  the  King's  authority,  con- 
cerned because  I  insisted  upon  going  to  a  village 
which  to  me  was  only  the  outpost  of  an  unknown 
territory,  but  to  him  was  known  as  a  native  gold 
market,  he  finally  resorted  to  deception,  telling  me 
of  impossible  trails  and  of  the  fearsome  Shankalis, 
not  yet  thoroughly  subdued,  he  said,  by  Abyssinian 
arms.  "I  love  you  as  a  brother,"  said  he;  "you 
tell  me  that  you  have  a  wife  and  children  whom  you 
love ;  then  for  your  sake  and  for  theirs,  I  tell  you, 
do  not  go  to  Gomer."  He  furnished  me  with  an 
intelligent  guide — and  evidently  told  him  to  lead 
me  away  from  the  desired  village. 

Fortunately,  the  map  and  compass  showed  me 
that  we  were  being  drifted  north  instead  of  properly 
to  the  south ;  the  guide  repeated  the  stories  of  im- 
possible roads,  then  when  I  persisted  he  yielded  and 
looked  troubled.  About  this  time  came  two  run- 
ners, Jewish-looking  Abyssinians,  I  remember,  an- 
nouncing that,  wherever  I  may  have  been  thus  far 
taken  by  the  guide,  I  was  to  now  know  that  I 
should  go  where  I  chose,  and  not  where  the  guide 
willed.  The  "Duke"  had  probably  had  time  to  re- 
ceive assurances  from  Menelik  that  he  really  meant 
me  to  go  anywhere  along  the  Blue  Nile.  Then  the 
whole  thing  came  out.  We  reached  Gomer  by  some 
of  the  best  trails  that  fell  to  me  in  Africa.  There 
were  no  threatening  Shankalis,  but  the  natives  were 
trading  gold  in  the  sky-covered  market,  filling  the 


70  Tibet  and  Turkestan 

dust  into  quills  for  one  measure,  and  weighing  small 
nuggets  against  pebbles  for  another.  Moreover,  my 
interpreter  found  that  Gomer  also  boasted  another 
lucrative  trade,  which  the  Ras  fairly  supposed  should 
be  concealed  from  the  European, — for  have  not  the 
white  men  cajoled  Menelik  into  some  sort  of  agree- 
ment to  suppress  the  slave  trade  in  his  realm?  But 
his  great  vassals,  far  in  the  interior,  where  the 
troubling  European  had  never  been  seen,  feel  no 
hesitation  in  maintaining  the  patriarchal  relation  of 
master  to  such  Shankalis  or  other  low  tribes  as  may 
sell  themselves  or  be  seized  in  war. 

Now,  the  Ras  did  not  like  to  lie  to  me,  I  feel  sure 
of  that,  for  he  was  very  much  a  gentleman ;  but  in 
statecraft,  alas!  who  is  spotless?  He  fenced  with  a 
lie,  while  seeking  a  sure  footing  between  new  policy 
on  the  one  hand  and  consecrated  tradition  on  the 
other.  So  perhaps  it  was  at  Polu.  We  knew  no- 
thing of  their  wretched  little  placers  (they  may  be 
direfully  rich  for  aught  I  know),  but  when,  within 
the  short  period  of  twenty  years,  four  different  sets 
of  white  men  poke  into  an  almost  impassable  valley 
and  spy  at  things  through  tubes  and  are  seen  to 
write  in  books  every  night,  is  it  not  fair  to  presume 
that  they  are  possessed  of  the  Devil  of  gold-love, 
which  is  known  to  enter  white  and  black  and  brown 
and  yellow  hearts  all  alike?  And  if  you  are  snugly 
ensconced  in  life  as  the  Beg  of  Polu,  making  by  the 
sweat  of  the  miner's  brow  an  honest  living  for  your 
hard-earned  wives  and  children,  would  you  not  feel 
constrained  to  set  a  pitfall  under  the  feet  of  a  spy- 
ing stranger?  Ras  Worke,  Lord  of  marches  in  far 
Godjam,  and  you,  humble  Beg  of  little  Polu!  a 


O 

'S, 

pj^> 

H 


On  to  Polu  71 

great  circle's  quadrant  separates  you  in  space,  a 
hundred  kowtows  separate  you  in  social  rank,  but 
you  stand  together  in  one  white  man's  memory  as 
having  given  him,  each  of  you,  a  bushel  of  trouble 
for  an  even  bushel  of  reasonable  suspicion  against 
him ! 

Now,  the  things  which  the  Beg  did,  or  inspired, 
or  seemed  to  inspire,  were  these :  the  desertion  of 
the  head-and-tail  holders  for  our  ponies  before  the 
plateau  was  reached;  the  disappearance  of  the 
donkey-caravan,  bearing  two-thirds  of  our  grain- 
supply,  of  which  a  part  was  recovered ;  and  the  de- 
sertion of  our  guide  before  he  had  taken  us  to  an 
agreed  point  on  the  plateau,  beyond  which  neither 
he  nor  we  knew  the  way,  but  which  we  wanted  as  a 
tie-point  on  the  map.  It  all  smelled  of  treachery. 
But  one  never  knows.  We  dealt  through  the  un- 
speakable Achbar.  There  was  room  for  some 
misunderstanding. 

The  assistant  caravan-men,  eight  in  number,  did 
excellent  work  for  three  days,  fording  the  ice-cold 
stream  scores  of  times,  legs  bare,  coats  soaked  in  the 
swirling  torrent,  no  possibility  of  warming  their  half- 
frozen  limbs.  Then,  all  the  frightful  steps  saving 
the  last  two  having  been  surmounted,  they  disap- 
peared one  after  the  other.  The  caravan  was  badly 
strung  out  —  impossible  to  watch  them.  Hence 
Achbar  was  told  to  promise  backsheesh  when  the 
end  should  be  gained.  Their  regular  pay,  fifteen 
cents  per  day,  had  been  deposited  with  the  Beg. 
The  backsheesh  would  have  nearly  doubled  it. 
The  donkey  men  started  away  from  Polu  ahead 
of  us.  We  stipulated  that  they  should  take 


72  Tibet  and  Turkestan 

their  burdens  of  grain,  together  with  a  live  sheep 
and  the  bread-supply  of  one  of  our  regular  men, 
up  to  the  top  of  the  pass,  thus  relieving  our 
own  ponies.  These  were  now  sixteen  in  number, 
and  their  strength  must  be  husbanded  against  the 
unknown,  but  surely  great,  demands  which  awaited 
them. 

We  passed  the  donkeys  the  second  day  out  on 
our  way  up;  they  were  struggling  bravely  against 
mighty  odds.  We  were  harassed  during  four  try- 
ing days,  from  Polu  to  the  pass:  horses  falling  in 
the  torrents  and  slipping  on  the  narrow  trail,  men 
and  beasts  breathing  harder  as  we  climbed  into  the 
thin  upper  air ;  sahibs  as  well  as  servants  sleeping 
in  holes  in  the  ground  or  in  the  open  cold,  because 
all  were  too  tired  to  mend  a  broken  tent-pole.  But 
at  last  it  was  over,  and  we  were  camped  about  ten 
miles  beyond  the  pass,  which  looks  northward  over 
all  Turkestan  and  southward  over  the  far-rolling, 
mountain-marked  plateau  of  Tibet.  We  were 
warmed  by  a  splendid  sun ;  the  waters  of  a  little 
lake  shone  at  our  feet,  the  tent  was  cosily  set,  there 
were  grass-roots  from  which  fire  could  be  had  to 
boil  a  pot  of  water  for  brewing  tea,  and  for  the 
softening  of  a  hare  which  Anginieur  had  killed  at 
fifteen  thousand  feet  elevation;  wild  ducks  and 
geese  invited  us  to  make  resounding  shots  in  the 
empty  waste;  we  were  tired,  but  happy,  and  we 
waited  for  the  donkeys.  Each  one  of  us  in  turn 
played  Sister  Anna,  mounted  on  some  bare  hillock 
and  far-gazing  across  the  desert  which  closed  around 
us.  No  signs  of  life  save  an  occasional  hare  and  a 
troop  of  wild  dogs.  These  must  have  been  a  hungry 


On  to  Polu  73 

lot,  as  we  saw  no  prey  for  them  during  several  days' 
march,  save  one  wild  horse. 

A  day  and  a  half  we  remained  in  the  lazy  lap  of 
repose.  Then  the  sky  clouded,  literally  and  figur- 
atively. Each  meal  given  to  men  and  horses  meant 
a  shortening  of  the  possible  journey  across  the  in- 
hospitable region  which  Mohammed  Joo  described 
as  "Adam  Yok," — "There  is  no  man," — and  which 
certainly  extended  a  hundred  miles  or  more  in  every 
direction.  Two  good  men  were  sent  back  to  search 
for  the  truants.  They  took  three  ponies,  and  on 
the  next  day  returned,  quite  played  out,  but  in  a 
measure  triumphant.  No  hide  or  hair  of  man  or 
donkey  had  been  seen,  but  they  found,  cast  down 
by  the  trail-side,  a  part  of  our  grain  and  our  sheep, 
its  throat  having  been  thoughtfully  cut.  The  miss- 
ing grain  may  have  been  stolen,  or,  more  probably, 
lost  in  the  torrents.  The  three  ponies  were  just 
able  to  bring  the  salvage.  On  taking  stock  we 
found  about  a  thousand  pounds  of  grain.  If  each 
horse  were  given  four  pounds  a  day  we  were  good  for 
fifteen  days.  If  we  found  occasional  grass,  or  if  we 
shot  some  horses  as  their  loads  were  consumed, 
we  could  hold  out  yet  longer.  If  we  had  no  bad 
luck  we  ought  to  reach  Rudok  in  about  twelve 
days.  As  to  the  men,  we  were  provisioned  for 
thirty  days. 

Perhaps  we  should  have  gone  back,  made  a  row, 
gotten  more  grain,  and  made  a  fresh  start.  But  the 
trail  behind  us  was  a  fearsome  thing,  worse  now  by 
reason  of  a  snow-fall  since  the  ascent,  and  we  could 
not  be  sure  of  better  treatment  a  second  time.  If 
we  were  to  make  a  try  at  the  plateau,  it  seemed  best 


74  Tibet  and  Turkestan 

to  push  on ;  we  might  reach  Rudok  or  meet  nomadic 
Kirghiz.     So  off  we  started. 

Our  guide,  Caliban's  double,  had  been  ugly  from 
the  moment  we  crossed  the  pass,  and  Mohammed 
Joo  had  thumped  him  a  little  to  keep  him  from 
balking.  He  was,  or  pretended  to  be,  ill ;  remem- 
bering that  the  mountaineers  are  occasionally  sub- 
ject to  nausea  when  taken  to  unusual  elevations,  we 
put  Caliban  on  a  pony,  though  none  of  our  own 
men  complained  of  anything  more  serious  than 
shortening  of  the  breath.  We  were  then  at  an 
elevation  of  about  sixteen  thousand  feet.  It  seemed 
wise  to  tie  our  Mercury  to  a  less  volatile  element, 
and  Mir  Mullah  was  chosen  for  the  role  of  anchor 
by  night  and  shadow  by  day.  Except  for  the  cords 
that  bound  his  legs  to  Mir  Mullah's  the  fellow  was 
well  treated,  and  was  promised  backsheesh,  besides 
the  unpaid  half  of  his  hire,  if  he  duly  led  us  past 
Baba  Hatun,  an  ancient,  deserted  Tibetan  fort,  to  a 
point  which  had  been  agreed  upon  by  Mohammed 
Joo  and  the  Beg,  and  which  we  hoped  to  identify 
on  the  map.  We  were  therefore  disgusted  and 
troubled  when  at  the  end  of  two  long  marches  from 
the  lake  the  guide  was  understood  to  say  that  we 
had  already  left  Baba  Hatun  to  the  rear.  Remon- 
strance was  useless.  We  were  told  that  the  Beg 
had  ordered  us  to  be  taken  by  another  road,  but 
that  we  should  reach  the  other  agreed  point  in  two 
days.  I  remembered  similar  trouble  in  Africa.  Not 
infrequently  and  not  unwisely  the  simple  native  re- 
fuses to  take  explorers  into  his  country  if  it  has 
heretofore  been  free  from  the  curiosity  that  finally 
upsets  him.  We  wanted  to  be  fair,  and  were  forced 


bD 


On  to  Polu  75 

to  be  patient.  When  we  pitched  camp  at  the  end 
of  a  day's  tortuous  march  Caliban  was  more  cheer- 
ful than  usual,  chatting  with  our  men  in  human 
fashion.  The  next  morning  Mir  Mullah  awoke  with 
a  free  leg  —  Caliban  had  vanished.  With  only  a 
crust  of  bread  he  started  alone  and  on  foot  across 
the  trackless  and  bitter  cold  desert.  His  good 
humour  had  probably  resulted  in  a  loosening  of  the 
bonds  that  held  him  to  Mir  Mullah,  who  now  could 
only  sheepishly  report  that  he  had  slept  heavily  and 
knew  nothing  of  the  escape.  The  man  safely  re- 
gained Polu,  as  we  learned  months  later  when  in- 
quiry was  made  through  Mr.  MacCartney,  now 
representing  Great  Britain  at  Kashgar.  And  our 
complaint  of  desertion  is  answered  by  Caliban's 
statement  that  we  were  forcing  him  to  follow  a  bad 
road  !  Poor  lamb !  Now,  indeed,  was  the  summer 
of  our  content  made  dismal  winter  by  this  inglorious 
son  of  Belial.  He  had  bestowed  us  at  the  end  of  a 
valley,  whose  blackened  volcanic  sides  gave  it  a 
more  than  usually  sinister  visage.  But  no  question 
of  appearance  would  have  weighed  against  it  if  we 
had  only  known  where  it  was — I  mean  if  we  had 
known  with  that  satisfying  intimacy  which  latitude 
and  longitude  alone  can  supply. 

I  had  left  behind  me  all  hope  of  recovering  my 
chronometer,  lost  by  reason  of  the  mulish  delay 
of  the  Osh  postmaster.  That  meant  no  longitude. 
But  latitude  by  meridian  passages  is  determinable 
without  a  chronometer,  provided  you  know  the  de- 
clinations of  the  bodies  observed.  These,  with  all 
other  required  astronomical  data,  are  given  in 
nautical  almanacs,  and  nautical  almanacs  should  not 


76  Tibet  and  Turkestan 

be  lost.  But  when  a  thorough  search  of  all  our  kit 
at  the  lake  encampment  failed  to  find  the  precious 
book  of  figures,  I  knew  that  latitudes  also  must  be 
rare. 

Even  a  very  exact  determination  of  position 
would  not  have  given  us  a  trail,  but  could  have 
determined  general  directions  toward  an  objective 
and  the  distance  to  be  traversed.  As  things  were, 
we  had  nothing  save  compass  readings  for  guidance. 
My  instrument  was  small,  not  well  made,  and  I  did 
not  know  the  magnetic  variation  on  the  Tibetan 
plateau.  Experience  had  taught  me  in  other  jour- 
neys that  results,  sometimes  remarkably  accurate, 
may  be  had  by  compass  work,  assuming  an  average 
rate  for  caravan  speed.  This  must  vary  with  the 
animals  used.  Thus,  Somali  camels  go  steadily  at 
about  two  and  a  quarter  miles  per  hour;  Abyssinian 
mules  may  be  counted  to  do  three  miles  per  hour 
over  anything  but  very  rough  country.  Our  Tur- 
kestan ponies,  as  we  had  determined  on  the  lower 
desert,  were  good  also  for  three  miles.  And  this 
figure  was,  for  a  time,  assumed  on  the  plateau, 
making  specific  allowance  for  all  stops  over  one 
minute.  It  proved  to  be  too  high,  the  animals 
being  slowed  down  by  the  rarified  air  and  equally 
rarified  food. 

During  the  first  five  days  beyond  the  pass  the 
error  of  magnetic  variation  was  of  small  account,  as 
our  course  had  been  generally  southward  with  ap- 
proximately equal  east  and  west  diversions.  It  be- 
came serious  on  the  long  westerly  course  soon  to  be 
pursued.  The  compass  course  pointed  a  wavering 
and  inaccurate  path  across  the  untracked  wastes. 


On  to  Polu  77 

When  later  corrections  were  made  by  tying  to 
known  points  at  the  ends  of  the  journey  over  the 
unexplored  region,  and  checked  by  corrected,  inter- 
mediate latitudes,1  a  fairly  good  result  was  reached. 

1  Meridian  passages  of  the  sun  were  observed,  declination  being 
calculated,  after  return  to  civilisation,  based  on  approximate  longi- 
tudes. 


CHAPTER   VI 

A   PLUNGE   TO   WHITHER-AWAY— THE   AKSAI    CHIN 
OR  WHITE  DESERT 

THIS  dissertation  on  survey  methods  seems  not 
to  belong  to  the  narrative  which  brought  us 
up  short  at  the  end  of  a  scoriae  valley.  It  is  prob- 
ably here  as  a  reflex  from  memories  of  the  halting 
and  embarrassment  experienced  while  getting  out 
of  that  valley.  Caliban's  desertion  led  to  the  dis- 
covery of  a  curious  mental  phenomenon.  He  had 
already  deceived  us  in  the  important  matter  of  the 
fort.  He  seemed  brutally  ignorant,  and  we  feared 
he  would  make  a  bad  use  of  such  small  intelligence 
as  God  had  granted  him.  Yet  we  were  sorry  to  lose 
him.  There  were  seven  of  us  left,  but  we  felt  lonely 
on  that  great  desert  without  Caliban.  It  is  the 
power  of  a  word, — and  of  faith, — irrational  faith,  I 
suppose.  We  had  engaged  him  as  a  guide,  and, 
indeed,  he  had  taken  us  to  the  lakes,  which  were  on 
the  map.  We  very  much  needed  a  guide.  After 
the  lake,  Caliban  had  only  pretended  to  know,  or 
had  actually  deceived  us.  Yet  he  was  our  guide. 
The  word  is  a  noble  one,  full  of  sentiment.  Trust 
on  the  one  side,  helpful  knowledge,  all  the  way  up 
to  omniscience,  on  the  other.  That  is  what  the 
word  implies.  And  though  all  these  elements  of 
sentiment  were  lacking  in  our  case,  yet,  for  a  few 

78 


A  Plunge  to  Whither-Away        79 

minutes,  we  mourned  for  our  guide.  But  it  is  one 
of  the  fixed  laws  of  travel  in  a  foodless,  fireless, 
houseless,  roadless  land  that  no  feeling,  however 
sacred,  can  be  indulged,  standing  still.  "Move 
on  !  "  That  is  Alpha  and  Omega  as  you  must  learn 
them  there,  provided  you  wish  to  remain  You.  So 
it  was  that,  cursing  Caliban  lightly  for  the  bad  heart 
that  was  in  him  and  for  his  evil  face,  yet  hoping  he 
might  not  suffer  on  his  long  journey  homeward,  we 
saddled  up  and  began  to  speer  a  way  outward  and 
onward. 

We  said  we  must  travel  south-westward — toward 
Rudok — and  we  hoped  to  find  trace  of  some  path, 
or  an  occasional  pile  of  stones  laid  by  the  hand  of 
man.  It  was  a  grievous  job,  I  remember,  getting 
out  of  the  valley.  The  gorge,  which  was  its  vermi- 
form appendix,  was  attempted  by  us,  but  refused  us 
admission,  scattering  boulder  behind  boulder.  So 
we  turned  away  from  it,  and  climbed  out,  having  to 
unload  the  ponies  and  man-handle  our  goods  in  the 
first  quarter  mile,  covering,  all  told,  about  a  mile 
of  progress  in  three  hours  of  labour.  Some  of  the 
ponies  were  badly  shaken  up  and  bruised  from  fall- 
ing, but  we  had  lost  none:  Here,  as  in  the  Polu 
gorge,  Mohammed  Joo  ranged  on  the  field,  a  valor- 
ous Achilles,  saving,  not  destroying. 

More  than  once  our  most  precious  packs  had  trem- 
bled to  their  fall,  as  the  ponies  slipped  and  gripped 
against  a  thousand-foot  roll  down  the  luring  slope, 
which  seeing  I,  at  the  rear,  unable  to  pass,  could  but 
cry  out  for  our  Achilles,  who  then,  holding  in  some 
spider-fashion  to  the  face  of  the  steep,  found  his 
way  to  the  point  of  peril,  got  foot-hold  or  hand-hold 


8o  Tibet  and  Turkestan 

under  the  horse's  belly,  let  the  burden  gently  down, 
urged  the  animal  past  the  projecting  rock,  re- 
gained the  trail,  moved  forward  the  loads  to  some 
safe,  wide-stretching  plain  that  might  measure  four 
feet  in  width,  where  the  charge  was  repacked  and 
our  nervous  march  resumed.  He  told  the  ponies  in 
their  native  tongue  how  he  expected  to  pull  them 
out  of  the  snarl  of  packs  and  rocks  into  which  they 
may  have  fallen.  The  rest  of  us  did  such  obvious, 
but  not  always  helpful,  things  as  might  occur  to 
strangers  looking  at  some  family  trouble,  but  only 
those  two,  Mohammed  Joo  and  the  beast,  knew 
how  four-foot  was  to  be  rolled  over  to  come  up,  all- 
standing,  on  some  scarce  perceptible  bench  that 
broke  the  smooth  face  of  the  steep  descent. 

Something  of  remorseful  zeal  burned,  I  think,  in 
the  breast  of  Mohammed  Joo,  now  that  we  were 
thrown  helpless  on  an  unknown  desert.  He  had 
believed  that  he  would  be  able  to  take  us  to  a  point 
from  which  the  route  to  Rudok  would  not  be  diffi- 
cult to  pick  up.  Now,  only  four  days  from  the 
pass  which  puts  one  on  the  plateau,  he  found  that 
the  mountains  and  valleys  traversed  three  years 
before  with  Captain  Deasey  were  confused  in 
memory  with  thousands  of  their  kind  that  cover  all 
this  roof-region  of  the  world  over  which  his  endless 
journeys  were  ever  leading  him.  The  sahibs  now 
must  determine  the  march  which  should  result  in  life 
or  death  for  all  of  us.  Mohammed  Joo  would  nobly 
do  his  part  in  nursing  the  afflicted  ponies,  prolonging 
their  lives  beyond  the  span  which  would  reasonably 
be  measured  to  them  in  terms  of  the  hunger  and  cold 
and  fatigue  which  were  their  daily  discipline.  Dis- 


bO 

C 


A  Plunge  to  Whither- Away        81 

cipline?  That  is  the  theological  term  under  which 
many  of  our  ills  are  covered.  What  is  it  for  the 
poor  beast?  What  is  the  object  of  his  discipline? 
Briefly,  we  do  not  know — neither  as  to  horse  nor  as 
to  man.  Suffering  is  a  part  of  the  universe,  in- 
herent as  is  joy.  While  watching  them,  one  after  the 
other,  stagger  to  their  death  I  could  see  only  this  : 
a  mass  of  carbon,  oxygen,  nitrogen,  and  hydrogen, 
which,  for  reasons  unknown  to  me,  or  to  you,  had 
for  a  time  been  endowed  with  the  fatal  gift  of  con- 
sciousness. And  a  man-corpse  suggests  nothing 
different,  save  a  less  weight  of  carbon,  oxygen,  hy- 
drogen, and  nitrogen,  with  a  greater  weight  of  con- 
sciousness. That  is  all  we  may  know  ;  but  there  are 
infinities  for  which  we  may  hope. 

In  getting  out  of  Caliban's  valley  we  were  led  up 
over  a  ridge  18,300  feet  above  the  sea,  and  then,  at 
the  end  of  two  days'  march,  we  were  down  again  to 
about  16,500.  As  to  direction,  we  yielded  to  the 
welcome  constraint  of  mountain  and  valley,  glad  to 
note  that  our  general  trend  was  south-westward. 
So  powerful  is  the  reasoning  of  desire,  we  had  con- 
vinced ourselves  that  we  could  identify  certain 
ranges  as  shown  on  the  meagre  maps,  and  for  a  few 
days  we  actually  saw,  at  about  five-mile  intervals, 
artificial  heaps  of  stone,  probably  marking  some 
native  trail  of  rarest  use,  from  Polu  to  the  salt  lakes 
or  to  Rudok.  But  we  now  know  that  we  depended 
too  much  on  maps  that  were  necessarily  sketches 
only. 

We  turned  away  westward  from  the  best  course 
to  Rudok,  earlier  by  a  good  two  days'  march  than 
should  have  been  done,  and  were  thus  thrown  in 


82  Tibet  and  Turkestan 

the  desert  known  as  Aksai  Chin — White  Desert. 
This  region  had  not  been  anywhere  traversed  by 
Europeans,  but  the  compilers  of  the  maps  had,  as 
is  customary,  put  in  certain  features  as  vaguely  re- 
ported by  natives.  These  were  erroneous,  but  we, 
not  then  knowing  definitely  our  position,  were  mis- 
led by  giving  some  faith  to  the  representations. 
Finding  the  mountain  system  very  different  from 
that  indicated  for  what  was  our  actual  latitude,  and 
very  similar  to  that  indicated  for  a  lower  latitude, 
we  were  thus  confirmed  in  an  error  which  at  the  end 
came  near  costing  us  "life,  liberty,  and  the  pursuit 
of  happiness." 

On  each  day  we  were  sternly  asked,  by  each  of 
the  four  elements,  certain  embarrassing  questions, 
and  the  witness  must  answer.  The  Fire  Spirit  said  : 
"How  shall  you  find  me,  that  you  may  have  hot 
water  for  your  tea  and  for  the  warming  of  your 
tinned  foods  ? ' '  And  we  answered :  ' '  With  the  happy 
trove  of  yak  dung,  or  the  grass-roots,  or,  these  fail- 
ing, with  splinters  of  our  two  wooden  packing-cases ; 
and  these  being  sacrificed,  with  this  straw  torn  from 
pack-saddles,  whose  bearers  are  stretched  stiff  there 
a  mile  behind  us.  Thus,  O  Fire  Spirit,  we  shall 
seek  you  and  conjure  you  to  the  end  that  we  may 
have  tea,  and  we  shall  not  ask  then  your  direct  com- 
forting of  our  bones."  And  the  Air  Spirit  spoke, 
saying:  "How  shall  you  protect  your  pulpy  bodies 
from  me,  relentless,  cold,  as  I  seek  to  steal  away 
from  them  the  heat  which  is  their  life?  "  And  we 
answered:  "With  the  sheep's  wool,  and  his  hide; 
and  these  protections  against  your  sharp  tooth  we 
shall  not  at  any  time  put  aside.  And  at  night  the 


A  Plunge  to  Whither-Away        83 

tender  ^Europeans  shall  sleep  in  a  tent,  and  the 
Asiatics  shall  sleep  on  the  uncovered  ground  and 
pile  up  packing-cases  against  your  blast." 

Then  the  Water  Spirit  spoke,  saying:  "You  may 
perchance  live  without  hot  tea,  you  may,  with  food 
in  your  packs,  burn  those  internal  fires  whose  pro- 
tected warmth  shall  defy  the  Air  Spirit.  But  how 
shall  you  deal  with  me  when  I  shall  mock  at  you  as 
a  mirage,  when  I  shall  sink  into  the  sands  at  your 
feet,  when  I  shall  change  into  stone  before  your 
eyes?  How  shall  you  possess  me,  the  Indispen- 
sable? "  And  for  answer  we  could  but  say :  "When 
you  mock  at  us  with  a  shining  lie,  we  shall  yet  seek 
after  you ;  when  you  are  buried  in  the  sand,  we 
shall  go  yet  farther  to  find  your  reappearance ;  when 
you  have  turned  into  stone,  we  shall  be  the  bet- 
ter able  to  carry  you  from  place  to  place  until 
you  shall  melt  to  the  wooing  of  the  Fire  Spirit. 
We  shall  thirst  for  you,  and  struggle  for  you,  but 
you  shall  yield,  you  shall  comfort  us."  And,  lastly, 
the  Earth  Spirit  spoke,  saying:  "I  have  trapped 
you  here,  you  who  have  come  into  my  sanctuary 
which  I  have  kept  apart  for  its  quietness.  You 
shall  see  doors  in  my  mountain  walls,  they  shall 
seem  to  be  open,  but  they  shall  be  closed  against 
you.  Your  feet  shall  be  heavy,  your  breathing 
shall  be  as  a  bellows  that  creaks.  This  land  I  have 
lifted  far  above  the  thick  air  which  your  lungs  de- 
sire for  the  quick  cleansing  of  your  blood.  This 
land  is  not  made  for  man.  You  have  sinned  against 
me  in  leaving  the  habitations  which  I  have  widely 
prepared  for  you,  to  come  into  my  high  solitudes." 
And  we  answer:  "The  shut  door  shall  we  leave, 


84  Tibet  and  Turkestan 

seeking  yet  another,  though  the  feet  be  heavy. 
Your  solitude  shall  then  be  respected;  open  only 
the  way.  Let  no  strange  skeletons  be  mingled  here 
with  those  of  the  yak,  the  gazelle,  the  wild  dog — 
proper  offerings  on  this  your  barren  altar." 

Thus  may  struggle  the  spirit  of  man  with  the 
spirits  of  all  the  conspiring  elements.  But  the 
ponies?  Ah!  they  could  but  answer  to  the  shrill 
jibe  of  the  death-bearing  night  wind:  "We  bear  the 
burdens  of  man,  his  will  must  we  serve  while  we 
live,  yours  to-morrow  when  we  die."  How  the 
poor  brutes  churned  and  churned  all  night  long! 
They  were  tied  in  pairs,  head  to  tail.  Thus  they 
could  move,  but  could  not  stray.  Little  rest  for 
them,  this  all-night  milling  round  and  round.  But 
to  stand  still  meant  death. 

The  loss  of  one's  ponies  is  the  peril  that  hangs 
over  all  travel  in  this  fatal  region.  It  is  impossible 
to  soften  the  frightful  conditions  in  which  they 
strive  to  exist.  They  must  travel  to  the  limit  of 
their  endurance,  because  the  land  is  foodless.  They 
cannot  be  relieved  from  the  effect  of  excessive  alti- 
tude ;  nor  can  they  be  protected  at  night  from  ex- 
cessive cold.  If  the  journey  be  long,  they  must 
be  fed  on  small  rations.  A  fair  load  for  a  pony  in 
rough  country  is  one  hundred  and  fifty  pounds,  or 
say  two  hundred.  If  he  were  fed  ten  pounds  a  day, 
he  could  carry  nothing  more  than  his  own  food  for 
a  twenty-day  journey.  The  occasional  grass  one 
meets  counts  for  something,  and  we  always  sought 
to  camp  near  even  the  meanest-looking  patch  of  it. 
But  one  cannot  rely  upon  it,  and  in  the  short  time 
available  for  grazing  over  sparse  growth,  the  animal 


A  Plunge  to  Whither-Away        85 

gets  only  a  lunch — not  a  dinner.  If  one  starts  from 
a  mountain-base,  such  as  Darjeeling  or  Ladak  Leh, 
the  animals  are  hardier  than  those  recruited  in  Tur- 
kestan. But  even  these  are  not  accustomed  to 
regular  life  at  elevations  above  fourteen  thousand 
feet,  and  the  increase  to  an  average  of  sixteen 
thousand  feet,  which  must  be  met  in  any  consider- 
able journey  on  the  plateau,  seems  to  tell  on  even 
the  hardiest. 

The  first  to  succumb  was  Captain  Anginieur's 
mount,  a  high-bred  animal  with  too  much  mettle. 
For  about  ten  days  after  ascending  the  Polu  gorge 
he  continued  to  be  ready  for  a  morning  gallop.  He 
soon  dropped,  fell  several  times  under  his  rider, 
tried  to  follow  the  caravan,  bearing  a  nominal  load ; 
then,  on  another  day,  without  load,  he  stumbled 
forward  several  times,  bleeding  at  the  mouth  as  he 
recovered ;  finally,  gave  it  up,  and  when  I  last  saw 
him  he  was  on  his  knees.  Anginieur  did  not  like 
the  thought  of  shooting  him ;  the  cold  of  the  night 
must  have  promptly  done  the  bullet's  quicker  work. 
My  own  mount,  an  excellent  Kashgar  purchase, 
died  one  night  a  few  days  after  he  had  made  a  noble 
effort  for  his  salvation  and  mine.  We  had  made  a 
hard  march  the  day  before  and  went  into  a  dry 
camp,  moistened  a  little,  however,  by  water  carried 
in  my  rubber  bed  from  the  previous  camp. 

We  were  moving  in  a  valley  about  ten  miles  wide. 
Small  streams  coming  from  the  neighbouring  snow- 
tops  wandered  lazily  over  level  surfaces,  and  often 
disappeared  almost  while  you  watched  them.  At 
night  they  were  frozen.  We  ought  to  reach  them 
early  enough  to  let  the  animals  drink  liquid  water. 


86  Tibet  and  Turkestan 

Ten  miles  is  a  wide  stretch  to  cross  and  re-cross, 
unless  you  have  nothing  else  to  do.  But  we  wanted 
to  move  forward  as  rapidly  as  possible.  At  about 
twelve  o'clock  noon  I  left  the  caravan,  which  was 
near  the  middle  of  the  valley,  agreeing  with  Angi- 
nieur  that  he  should  keep  the  march  headed  on  a 
selected  peak  far  in  front  of  us,  while  I  sought  for 
water  near  the  foot  of  one  of  our  bounding  ranges. 
At  about  four  o'clock,  finding  none,  I  turned 
to  rejoin  the  caravan,  and  soon  reached  the  line 
of  the  front-and-rear  peaks  agreed  on  in  the 
morning. 

The  caravan  was  not  seen,  nor  the  trail.  For  a 
time  we  kept  on  the  supposed  line  of  march,  but 
when  no  trail  was  found  and  the  sun  sank  low  both 
horse  and  I  were  troubled.  Finally,  quite  against 
his  will,  I  turned  the  animal  square  across  the  val- 
ley, determined  thus  to  find  the  trail  before  dark,  or 
prove  that  the  caravan  had  not  gone  so  far.  The 
poor  beast  flagged  now;  he  thought  I  was  wrong 
and  he  knew  he  was  tired.  But  when  the  tracks 
were  seen,  what  an  intelligent  leap  he  made !  Turn- 
ing freely  to  follow,  now  forward,  he  again  tried  to 
gallop.  But  the  fire  was  gone.  Thus  we  passed 
on,  hoping  every  moment  to  see  the  caravan  in 
motion  or  the  tent  set  for  a  cheerless  night.  Then 
came  a  stony  stretch,  the  moon  sank  in  clouds,  the 
trail  was  gone. 

It  was  no  longer  possible  to  make  out  anything  in 
the  dark.  Just  what  to  do  was  a  puzzle.  I  must 
not  stop  too  long,  as  that  meant  sleeping  and  freez- 
ing, but  I  was  very  tired ;  hence  I  concluded  to  lie 
down  for  a  while,  keeping  the  bridle  on  my  arm. 


A  Plunge  to  Whither-Away        87 

Then,  remembering  a  crust  of  bread  in  my  saddle- 
bag, I  providentially  moved  round  the  horse's  head 
to  get  it,  when  a  flash — no  sound,  but  an  instant's 
flash — struck  through  the  black  night.  As  we  were 
the  only  men  for  several  hundreds  of  miles  about, 
that  flash  was  conclusive  evidence  that  the  camp 
was  near.  Now  we  need  not  fight  the  bitter  night 
through  against  hunger  and  the  killing  cold.  I 
sprang  to  the  saddle  and  again  urged  forward  the 
over-worn  horse.  The  signal  he  could  not  under- 
stand, yet  he  forged  on,  dejectedly  but  patiently. 

In  less  than  half  an  hour  we  were  splashing 
through  a  good  stream.  Shot  after  shot  guided  us 
on,  then  shout  after  shout,  then  hand -grasp  after 
hand-grasp,  for  even  the  men  put  aside  the  reserve 
of  station  to  welcome  the  lost  sahib.  But  the  poor 
horse  never  recovered  his  spirit.  He  had  endeav- 
oured, yea,  accomplished,  too  much.  He  could 
scarce  make  the  next  day's  march,  and,  though  he 
showed  again  a  bit  of  energy,  in  a  week  he  was 
dead.  Even  when  an  enforced  halt  had  come  to  the 
caravan,  and  he  had  days  of  repose  ahead  of  him,  he 
chose  eternal  rest.  Our  trouble  had  arisen,  like 
many  others  less  serious,  from  a  mirage.  My  long 
absence  from  the  caravan  caused  Anginieur  to  feel 
that  he  must  look  out  for  water.  A  beautiful  little 
lake  spread  out  to  the  left  of  our  agreed  line  of 
march.  He  veered  over  toward  the  vision,  which 
was  n't  water,  but  only  the  ghost  of  it.  That  ac- 
counted for  the  long  loop  in  the  trail  and  my  failure 
to  pick  it  up  when  I  reached  the  line  of  the  direction 
peaks.  Moral.  When  you  have  been  long  sepa- 
rated from  your  friends,  remember  that  they  may 


88  Tibet  and  Turkestan 

have  excellent  reasons  for  changing  rules  of  conduct 
supposedly  fixed. 

The  caravan  was  in  motion  about  ten  hours  dur- 
ing the  day  just  described ;  that  is  a  long  pull  for 
weak,  underfed  horses,  so  we  had  to  shoot  one  on 
breaking  camp  next  morning.  The  straw  of  the 
now  useless  pack-saddle  was  given  in  part  to  the 
tea-making  fire,  and  in  part  to  the  famished  horses, 
each  one  striving  for  a  mouthful  of  the  woody 
fibre. 

We  are  now  nearly  at  the  end  of  the  long,  flat 
valley  in  which  we  had  marched  for  eight  or  ten 
days.  It  was  closed  just  ahead  of  us,  and  there  was 
thus  closed  one  chapter  in  the  history  of  our  woes. 
Yet  withal  a  few  pleasant  elements  had  entered  into 
the  experience.  Two  lakes  were  discovered,  one 
drinkable,  the  other  salt.  The  fresh  water  lay  beau- 
tifully blue  at  the  foot  of  sharply  rising  mountains 
and  gladdened  our  eyes  for  two  days.  Around  the 
other  tracks  were  found,  some  quite  new,  and  these 
lifted  our  hopes.  But  the  trails  thinned  out  into 
the  silent  hills.  They  were  evidently  made  by  wild 
horses  coming  to  the  salt  licks.  Both  the  lakes  were 
new  to  the  maps. 

It  was  near  the  sweet  water  that  we  had  a  half 
day's  diversion  furnished  by  a  herd  of  wild  yak. 
Miles  had  given  us  a  Berdan  rifle.  With  this  and 
the  Mauser  gun-pistol  we  taught  the  yaks  and  the 
virgin  echoes  how  noisy  and  how  harmless  may  be 
the  artillery  of  the  breath-spent  hunter.  That  we 
were  exhausted  by  our  vain  stalking  efforts  was  of 
small  concern ;  that  we  failed  to  get  fresh  meat  was 
a  disappointment,  particularly  for  the  men,  who 


A  Plunge  to  Whither-Away        89 

worked  hard  and  shivered  much  during  thirty  days 
or  more  on  a  diet  of  tea  and  bread,  while  we  had 
sustaining  tins  of  sausage  and  pork  in  various  other 
forms ;  also  dreadful  Russian  fish.  The  folded  val- 
ley in  which  we  saw  the  yaks  contained  a  bit  of 
grazing,  which  would  have  been  relished  by  the 
ponies,  but  we  had  to  retreat  from  its  impassable 
sides  and  regain  the  broader  desert  in  which  our 
course  had  been  held.  Even  here  occasional  ga- 
zelles browsed  invisible  grass,  and  invariably  flung 
away,  rejoicing,  from  our  long-range  shots. 

Except  for  these  things,  the  lakes,  the  yaks,  and 
the  gazelles,  yes,  and  the  sunshine,  and  the  solitude 
and  the  snow-tops  around  us,  I  can  think  of  nothing 
agreeable  in  connection  with  the  long  valley  which 
stretches  across  the  Aksai  Chin.  Except  for  these, 
life  there  was  but  a  constant  strain  of  search  for 
water,  for  fuel  of  roots  or  dung,  for  a  bit  of  grazing, 
and  always  for  a  trail  that  never  was  found,  because 
it  never  had  been. 

Now,  ahead  of  us  the  mountains  closed  the  way. 
They  were  not  ugly  heights ;  we  felt  that  they  could 
be  climbed,  or  a  way  threaded  between  them.  The 
portentous  question  was,  which  way?  We  had  evi- 
dently passed  beyond  any  opening,  if  it  existed, 
that  would  lead  us  by  short  line  to  Rudok.  Might 
we  not  be  near  Lanak  Pass?  That  is  on  the  map. 
Several  explorers  had  crossed  it.  Indeed,  Moham- 
med Joo  now  took  courage  and  declared  that  he 
recognised  the  black  mountain  there  in  front.  We 
microscoped  the  rumour-made  maps  more  closely 
than  ever  and  then  plunged  into  the  heights  which 
confronted  us.  Soon  we  were  up  again  to  eighteen 


90  Tibet  and  Turkestan 

thousand  feet,  then  down  again  to  sixteen  thousand 
five  hundred,  in  a  rather  narrow  valley.  Lassoo  now 
began  to  revive  memories  of  his  march  with  Captain 
Welby.  His  little  yellow  face  was  turned  know- 
ingly from  side  to  side,  and  he  soon  delighted  us  by 
declaring  to  Achbar  that  we  were  going  in  the  wrong 
direction.  Think  of  it,  somebody  who  knew  what 
was  the  wrong  direction !  The  next  morning  we 
gave  Lassoo  his  head,  and  were  soon  scaling  another 
eighteen-thousand-foot  ridge,  down  into  another 
valley  at  about  sixteen  thousand  five  hundred  feet 
elevation.  Mohammed  Joo,  ever  an  optimist,  said 
that  was  Lanak  Pass.  Lassoo  said  it  was  not,  but 
he  could  take  us  to  Lanak  and  probably  find  shep- 
herds there.  Our  hearts  swelled  with  satisfaction. 
A  shepherd  meant  a  trail ;  a  trail  meant  a  way  back 
to  the  world  where  people  lived,  where  the  map 
should  no  longer  be  blank  and  where  the  ear 
should  no  longer  be  hurt  by  the  refrain  "Adam 
Yok!" 

Another  day  we  followed  Lassoo,  who  held  down 
the  valley  wherein  a  friendly  stream  accompanied  us 
for  a  while.  But  now  the  little  compass  read  N. 
W.,  and  all  day  long  N.  W.,  and  there  were  no 
shepherds.  But  men  had  been  in  this  valley.  Lassoo 
triumphantly  chuckled  over  a  piece  of  pottery  found 
near  to  three  blackened  stones,  dear  to  the  eyes  of 
the  trail-seeker.  Then  we  passed  a  curious  line  of 
little  stone-piles  about  a  foot  high,  two  feet  apart, 
and  stretching  a  clean  mile  across  the  valley,  with  a 
six-foot  opening  about  the  middle.  I  think  it 
served  to  cull  the  foolish  flocks  that  may  have 
grazed  last  year,  or  a  hundred  years  ago,  or  a  thou- 


A  Plunge  to  Whither- Away        91 

sand,  on  the  hillsides,  that  now  bore,  here  and  there, 
only  a  little  furze  like  the  three  days'  beard  on  a 
man's  chin. 

Night  came  on,  and  our  stream  had  left  us  by 
burying  itself  alive.  We  turned  up  a  side  valley 
and  pitched  camp  in  the  dark,  all  very  blue.  We 
had  not  filled  the  rubber  bed  in  the  morning,  and 
all  my  previous  exhortations  in  respect  to  water 
bottles  resulted  only  in  two — mine  and  Achbar's. 
Two  pints  of  water  for  seven  men.  Achbar's  bottle 
went  to  the  men.  They  would  not  accept  the 
whiskey  I  offered,  and  whose  use  under  such  cir- 
cumstances I  thought  even  the  Prophet  himself 
would  have  allowed ;  but  he  was  not  there  to  make 
a  dispensation. 

And  now  the  worst  of  it  came.  Poor  Anginieur 
had  been  always  more  affected  by  the  altitude  than 
the  rest  of  us.  He  was  forced  tp^open  his  lips  for 
breathing.  We  had  been  riding  for  days  into  the 
teeth  of  a  cruel  wind,  which,  I  suppose,  inflamed 
the  exposed  tonsils  and  made  things  worse.  It  was 
impossible  to  keep  warm  enough  for  continuous 
sleep  at  night,  though  we  wore  all  our  day-clothing 
and  got  under  everything  else  available.  This  lack 
of  sleep  produced  general  feverishness,  and  now  a 
long  night  had  to  be  passed  with  only  one  cup  of 
water,  a  body  temperature  of  103°  F.,  and  an 
atmospheric  temperature  of  —20°  F. 

My  little  stock  of  medicines  had  not  seemed  to 
be  selected  to  meet  this  case,  though  they  had  been 
rather  liberally  applied  during  the  past  few  days. 
Moreover,  I  never  treat  Europeans  with  the  same 
confidence  which  spreads  from  patient  to  doctor 


92  Tibet  and  Turkestan 

when  the  patient  is  a  native.  In  Africa,  where  I 
had  a  flourishing  practice,  another  condition  added 
to  my  professional  aplomb.  I  was  always  moving 
forward  and  thus  left  my  clients  behind  me,  cured 
by  faith,  I  trust.  Now,  when  the  case  seemed  grave, 
and  was  that  of  my  friend,  I  felt  miserable  in  my 
ignorance.  Icould  but  give  quinine  and  look  cheer- 
ful ;  it  was  a  hard  night  for  Anginieur,  whose  fever 
gasped  for  water,  though  he  must  be  covered  cap-a- 
pie  to  keep  from  freezing.  Very  early  we  were  up, 
looking  about  for  H2O  in  any  form. 

Mohammed  Joo  climbed  to  a  forbidding  niche 
about  a  mile  away  and  came  back  about  seven 
o'clock  with  a  bucket  full  of  reviving  snow.  Then 
Lassoo  explored  a  near-by  elevation,  found  abun- 
dant running  water  within  a  quarter  of  a  mile,  and 
soon  the  rubber  bed  was  full.  Perilous  as  was  our 
position  now,  a  day's  rest  for  the  invalid  became  im- 
perative. And  it  was  equally  imperative  that  the 
caravan  should  be  lightened.  We  had  now  eleven 
horses  and  grain  enough  to  quarter-feed  them  all  for 
about  five  days.  Unless  some  of  them  were  better 
fed,  all  would  soon  die.  So  we  made  a  pile  contain- 
ing civilised  clothing,  books  (about  a  dozen  good 
heavy  ones  that  had  come  with  me  all  the  way  from 
London),  our  little  camp  table  and  chairs,  my  sex- 
tant, and  various  odds  and  ends,  altogether  amount- 
ing to  about  two  loads.  Then  we  redistributed  the 
packs  and  found  that  we  could  get  rid  of  at  least 
three  animals.  Mohammed  Joo  was  told  to  give 
no  grain  to  these  three,  to  let  them  follow,  if  they 
chose,  in  the  hope  of  some  sudden  relief,  or,  if  he 
preferred,  to  shoot  them.  As  his  heart  was  half 


A  Plunge  to  Whither-Away        93 

horse,  he  did  not  shoot  them  and  did,  I  fear,  sneak 
them  a  mouthful  of  food. 

After  one  day's  rest,  Anginieur  was  again  able  to 
get  in  the  saddle.  In  an  hour's  march  we  had 
picked  up  our  disappearing,  re-appearing  stream, 
and  in  another  hour  it  was  running  strong  wherever 
it  could  break  through  its  fetters  of  ice.  But  the 
valley  trended  stubbornly  north-west.  This  seemed 
to  mean  that  we  should  soon  be  in  the  open  desert 
again,  and  certainly  we  were  wearing  away  from 
Lanak  Pass — away  from  possible  food  and  life.  So 
when  a  wide  opening  appeared,  looking  south-west, 
we  felt  that  reason  pointed  toward  the  new  valley. 
I  had  many  misgivings  about  leaving  a  descending 
stream  to  ascend  a  long  valley.  Lassoo's  leathery 
face  almost  changed  colour  when  he  saw  us  leading 
away  on  a  new  tack,  and  my  conversation  with  him 
was  thus : 

"The  sahibs  will  surely  die  if  they  leave  this 
stream." 

"But  how  do  you  know  we  shall  not  die  if  we 
follow  it?" 

"At  Lanak  Pass  there  was  big  water,  and  this  too 
is  big." 

But  I  am  sure  now  that  we  are  far  from  Lanak ; 
the  sun  has  told  me  so." 

"Even  if  we  are,  this  is  good  water." 

"But  many  times  we  have  seen  the  streams  die  in 
the  sands — why  not  this  one?  " 

"There  are  fish  here.  I  saw  some  under  the  ice 
as  long  as  two  hands ;  such  fish  are  not  in  the  waters 
that  die  in  the  sands.  And  we  now  go  down,  that 
is  good.  If  we  go  up  the  horses  will  die  first.  The 


94  Tibet  and  Turkestan 

sahibs  cannot  sleep  without  horses  to  carry  their 
food  and  their  blankets.  Even  we  cannot  walk  and 
bear  burdens  in  this  land;  we  shall  all  die." 

"But  this  stream  goes  ever  in  the  wrong  direc- 
tion." 

"It  will  change — if  it  does  not  yet  I  shall  soon 
find  men — shepherds  of  the  Botmen  (Tibetans)  or 
the  Kirghiz,  perhaps." 

I  felt  that  Lassoo's  talk  was  good  medicine,  but 
the  compass  and  the  maps  won  the  day  and  carried 
us  on  to  further  trials.  One  of  our  ponies  had 
dropped  just  before  we  changed  direction.  Another 
considerately  went  down  a  short  time  before  we 
camped,  thus  assuring  us  a  straw  fire  for  our  tea. 
The  next  night,  a  bitter  one  in  a  snow-fall  at  an 
elevation  of  seventeen  thousand  five  hundred  feet, 
was  cheered  by  this  sort  of  death-flame.  Three 
ponies  had  now  eliminated  themselves  from  the 
grain  equation  without  help  of  powder  and  shot. 
By  noon  of  the  following  day  we  had  clambered  out 
of  the  upper  defiles  of  our  tempting  valley  and 
found  ourselves  on  a  mountain-top,  the  very  abomi- 
nation of  desolation.  Again  we  looked  at  the  world 
from  an  elevation  of  eighteen  thousand  five  hundred 
feet,  and  it  was  not  good  to  behold;  magnificent, 
but  not  good.  Vast  snow-crowned  heights,  like 
gigantic  foam  billows,  met  at  every  point  a  now 
threatening  sky.  A  deep  valley  looked  up  at  us 
from  the  west,  but  visible  issue  there  was  none. 
There  was  absolutely  nothing  to  suggest  a  way  out 
of  the  wildly  massed  region  of  snow  save  death  or 
retreat.  Again  the  little  leathery  face  of  Lassoo 
seemed  drawn  as  by  cords,  yet  composedly  he  said 


03 

'Hb 

c 
W 


A  Plunge  to  Whither-Away        95 

to  Achbar,  who  composedly  interpreted  to  us: 
"Now  the  sahibs  see  that  we  must  all  die  if  we 
go  on;  and  shall  we  go  there,  or  there,  or  there? 
It  is  all  the  same.  Last  night  the  ponies  were 
nearly  all  dead  in  the  snow.  All  of  us  were  very 
cold.  You  see  it  is  worse  around  us.  But  it  is  not 
too  late,  I  think,  if  we  go  back!  " 

Just  then,  at  the  psychological  moment,  the  snow 
began  falling  around  us,  and  even  Anginieur,  who 
sympathised  less  with  Lassoo's  views  than  I,  felt 
that  our  lives  were  now  hung  on  a  slender  thread, 
which  pulled  us  backward.  Lassoo  was  all  wrong 
about  Lanak  Pass,  but  he  was  all  right  in  respect  to 
the  wisdom  of  sticking  closer  than  a  brother  to  a 
good  descending  stream.  And  now  we  could  hold 
out  but  a  few  days  longer,  for  our  grain  supply  was 
just  two  bushels.  We  had  been  travelling  for  more 
than  twenty  days  without  seeing  a  human  being  and 
had  no  idea  where  to  find  them,  andwe  were  simply 
lost.  So  down  we  went.  There  remained  much  to 
surfer,  but  that  decision  saved  us  eventually.  I  re- 
member just  a  little  regret  at  leaving  so  splendid,  so 
savage  a  view.  And,  as  we  knew  later,  the  spot  was 
geographically  of  unique  interest.  The  ridge  which 
stretched  its  forlorn  length  to  right  and  left  of  us 
separates  the  Hindustan  plains  from  the  central 
desert.  It  is  the  true  ridge-pole  of  the  Asiatic  con- 
tinental mass.  The  snowflakes  that  fell  around  us 
might  be  divided  even  as  they  melted,  part  going  to 
the  hungry  sands  of  the  cold  northern  wastes,  part 
to  be  warmed  in  the  glistening  bosom  of  the  Indian 
Ocean.  Here  is  such  a  frontier  as  Titans  would  de- 
clare for  fending  wide  apart  their  jealous  empires. 


96  Tibet  and  Turkestan 

And  here  is  such  a  seat  as  Icy  Death  would  sit  upon 
for  throne. 

In  a  day  and  a  half  we  were  again  camped  in  the 
big  valley  near  the  point  where  we  had  left  it,  an 
unusually  fine  grass-patch  near  us,  abundant  water 
at  our  feet,  and  a  fair  supply  of  yak  dung,  garnered 
there  by  passing  decades.  On  the  way  down  we 
had  proposed  to  Mohammed  Joo  and  Lassoo  that 
they  should  go  alone  down  the  good  stream  to  seek 
help,  while  the  rest  of  us  remained  in  camp,  thus 
avoiding  transport  of  five  men  and  our  European 
necessities,  tent,  and  heavier  bedding.  They 
eagerly  assented.  Indeed,  it  was  evidently  the 
only  course  possible.  We  had  now  just  one  bushel 
of  grain.  That  would  keep  two  horses  going  several 
days,  and  at  good  speed,  but  it  would  last  eight 
horses  only  two  days,  at  half  rations.  Lassoo  was 
calmly  confident  that  he  could  return  in  six  days. 
Just  why  he  said  six  instead  of  sixteen  I  don't  know, 
unless  he  merely  wanted  to  comfort  us,  for  we  could 
live  comfortably  for  ten  days  on  the  food  remaining 
to  us,  and  we  hoped  the  idle  horses  might  keep  their 
life-sparks  burning  by  consumption  of  the  grass. 

Our  two  messengers  then  fared  forth  to  ask  of  the 
silent  mountains  whether  we  were  to  be  granted  a 
few  more  years  of  respiration,  of  see-saw  'twixt  pain 
and  pleasure.  How  grave  it  all  seemed  to  us! 
How  indifferent  to  the  dumb  world  around  us! 
How  petty  to  the  babbling  world  of  men  to  which 
we  once  belonged !  Perhaps  a  few  broken  hearts 
there,  grief -filled  for  a  season,  then  the  salve  of 
time  and  routine,  then,  for  them  also,  the  sovereign 
cure-all,  death. 


CHAPTER  VII 

CAMP     PURGATORY — PHILOSOPHY     AND     RELIGION 
VS.  PROBABLE   DEATH — KIRGHIZ   SAMARITANS 

THE  tardy  sun  reached  the  black  mountain-tops 
and  slanted  his  arrows  upon  our  tent  some- 
what after  eight  in  the  morning.  When  thus  we 
were  invited  forth  from  our  covers  on  the  first  day 
of  our  sojourn  in  Camp  Purgatory  (for  so  we  called 
it),  it  came  to  pass  that  another  blow  from  Fortune's 
hammer  fell  upon  us.  Now  it  struck  Anginieur's 
leg,  and  the  effect  thereof  is  called  phlebitis,  and 
the  effect  of  phlebitis  is  acute  pain,  a  sort  of  paraly- 
sis. A  short  cable's  length  of  assisted  promenade, 
that  was  a  day's  work  for  a  so  stricken  leg.  For 
the  upkeeping-of  our  courage  we  had  talked  much 
and  fallaciously  about  walking  toward  safety,  when 
the  ponies  should  all  have  died;  scheming  to  use 
them  inside  of  us  when  they  could  no  longer  bear 
us  as  burdens  on  their  backs.  But  if  no  help  came 
from  down  stream,  whither  our  messengers  had 
gone,  we  should  be  forced  back  into  the  maze  of 
fatal  mountains  which  had  encircled  us  since  we  left 
the  Aksai  Chin  valley.  Even  the  natives  felt  the 
hopelessness  of  such  an  effort  for  themselves. 

The  attempts  that  I  had  made  to  give  relief  to 
my  pitiful  mount  whenever  the  uphill  work  halted 
him  had  made  it  clear  to  me  that  even  a  well  man, 

97 


98  Tibet  and  Turkestan 

burdened  with  a  few  pounds  of  food  and  the  cover- 
ing necessary  to  protect  from  freezing  at  night, 
would  be  able  to  make  not  more  than  three  or  four 
miles  per  day.  Now,  as  we  frequently  had  to  travel 
twenty  miles  a  day  to  secure  water,  the  shorter 
march  might  be  fatal.  Of  course,  the  immortal 
principle  of  Micawber  would  doubtless  keep  a  live 
body  moving  as  long  as  motion  was  possible,  but  I 
had  now  revolved  the  situation  in  many  different 
lights,  and  had  become  convinced  that  relief  could 
come  only  from  the  down-stream  course  of  the  black 
valley  in  which  we  found  ourselves.  If  not  there, 
then  a  good  dose  of  Mauser  lead  could  at  least 
shorten  heartache  and  hunger  pangs. 

Anginieur's  spirit  had  for  days  been  far  stronger 
than  his  body,  and  even  now,  when  this  sore  afflic- 
tion fell  upon  him,  he  always  joined  me  in  whiling 
away  the  long  hours  by  talking  about  what  we 
should  do  when  we  should  get  out.  When  several 
days  had  passed,  and  our  poor  ministrations  to  the 
invalid  leg  were  shown  to  be  futile,  there  came — so 
secret  and  complex  are  mental  processes — a  sort  of 
resignation  to  our  inactivity,  a  sort  of  restful  finality 
concerning  the  impossiblity  of  walking  out  of  our 
trouble.  As  the  days  wore  on  we  even  tried  to  bar 
the  wearisome  discussion  of  what  to  do  if  the  men 
came  not  back  within  the  necessary  limits  of  days, 
or  if  they  came  back  empty-handed.  And  in  this 
the  phlebitis  helped  us.  Nursing  it  gave  occupa- 
tion to  sunlit  hours  that  came  staring  at  us,  and  to 
rushlit  hours  that  came  peering  at  us,  inquiring, 
"What  can  you  do  with  us?  We  must  be  lived 
unto  our  death."  Anginieur's  leg  and  the  Bible, 


Camp  Purgatory  99 

these  were  the  two  diversions,  the  two  clean-picked 
bones  of  discussion. 

The  story  of  how  the  Bible  came  to  Camp  Purga- 
tory is  this :  I  have  told  you  that  before  making  our 
dash  up  Disappointment  Valley  we  had  cast  aside 
all  save  the  indispensables.  Now,  we  found  our- 
selves about  ten  miles  below  Camp  Abandon,  im- 
prisoned for  a  time  or  for  eternity.  My  little  library 
spoke  to  me  through  the  solid  earth,  and  I  longed 
for  it.  The  intricacies,  the  profundities,  the  absurdi- 
ties which  should  be  found  in  Kant,  Spinoza,  Des- 
cartes, the  Koran,  the  Bible,  Buddha's  Meditations 
these  would  lead  one  away  from  self,  a  too  intimate 
personage  when  his  existence  seems  threatened. 
The  little  collection  had  been  put  in  a  leather  box 
and  named  Kitab,  this  being  Hindustani  for  book. 

Mir  Mullah  now  was  sent  with  two  ponies  that 
could  walk  to  recover  Kitab,  ten  miles  away.  The 
old  man  had  done  nothing  thoroughly,  save  his 
prayers,  but  there  seemed  little  chance  for  error. 
"Go  back  to  the  abandoned  camp  and  recover 
Kitab,  also  some  shoes."  We  reckoned  not,  how- 
ever, with  the  possibilities  of  Achbar's  translations 
falling  upon  a  mind  vacant  and  now  disturbed. 
Mir  Mullah  returned,  after  a  day  and  a  half,  bringing 
my  trunk, — Kitab  still  ten  miles  away.  Both  were 
of  leather.  On  this  similarity  Mir  Mullah  stumbled. 
The  trunk  contained  evening  dress,  summer  clothes, 
and  the  Bible ;  and  weighed  twice  as  much  as  Kitab ; 
the  wretched  pony  died  of  it  two  days  later.  The 
book  had  been  accidentally  separated  from  its  com- 
panion volumes.  It  was  ungracious  that  one,  even 
nominally  a  Christian,  should  curse  a  Mussulman  for 


ioo  Tibet  and  Turkestan 

bringing  him  the  Bible,  but  I  could  fairly  scold  the 
poor  old  stupid  for  putting  half  a  normal  load  on  a 
pony  having  only  one-tenth  its  normal  strength,  and 
no  grain  at  the  end  of  the  journey.  When  men  look 
at  you  with  the  deep,  patient  eyes  that  light  those 
Asiatic  faces,  and  when  one's  wrath  must  filter 
through  Achbar's  brain  and  Achbar's  tongue,  the 
victim  still  lives  when  you  have  finished  with 
him. 

And  the  morning  and  the  evening  were  the  second 
day  when  I  began  to  read  the  Bible  to  Anginieur. 
Ere  a  week  had  passed,  even  my  orthodox  Catholic 
friend  felt  that  the  early  books  of  slaughter  and  the 
vitriolic  prophets  left  much  to  be  desired  as  an  ele- 
vating preparation  for  probable  death.  Job,  the 
patient  and  Ecclesiastes,  struck  a  more  sympathetic 
note.  The  ante- Abraham  traditions  were  suggest- 
ive, even  absorbing,  to  the  intellect  that  would  in- 
quire critically  into  the  history  of  religion.  So, 
also,  though  of  far  less  hold  upon  one's  interest, 
the  childish  babbling  of  the  dream-interpreters, 
down  to  Daniel.  Much  of  all  this  turns  around 
life,  but  the  life  of  a  nation  rather  than  of  an  indi- 
vidual. It  could  enter  little  into  the  meditations 
of  those  whose  chances  of  living  were  down  to  the 
Camp  Purgatory  measure.  Ruth,  Esther,  and  the 
Songs  of  Solomon  were  read,  together  with  some 
torn  pages  of  Childe  Harold,  which  had  been  hid- 
den in  our  kit ;  all  these  spoke  to  us  of  the  Heaven 
of  woman's  love,  from  which  we  seemed  to  be  per- 
manently exiled.  To  the  life  of  Christ,  he  of 
Christian  childhood,  though  long  since  forced  be- 
yond the  fold,  might  fancy  that  he  could  more  con- 


Camp  Purgatory  101 

fidingly  turn  for  inspiration  and  for  solace.  But 
those  who  were  chosen  to  tell  us  the  story  of  this 
great  life  piled  Pelion  on  Ossa  of  intellectual  diffi- 
culty —  Pelion  of  resurrection  on  Ossa  of  virgin 
birth.  Frightened  by  these  uplifted  rocks,  we  are 
then  forced  to  sail  between  the  Scylla  of  individual 
interpretation  of  ancient  writings,  on  the  one  hand, 
and,  on  the  other,  the  Charybdis  of  severe  church 
authority,  rising  from  foundations  of  musty  tradi- 
tion. Under  the  lee  of  this  Charybdis  rock,  Angi- 
nieur's  bark,  driven  by  fate,  had  been  anchored,  and 
some  peace  found,  but  a  peace  disturbed  by  thoughts 
of  the  many  who  seemed  to  have  vanished  out  into 
the  far  sea  of  unbelief.  And  lo !  there,  where  the 
storm  of  doubt  has  been  outridden,  there  also  is 
peace.  There  one  sees  his  neighbour-barks  sink 
quietly,  sails  all  furled,  into  the 'sea  from  which 
they  rose.  Some,  in  the  gradual  engulfment  of 
age,  seem  but  to  nestle  back  into  the  water  as  the 
tired  child  seeks  its  couch.  Others,  downward  drawn 
by  a  law  more  sudden  and  more  secret  in  its  drift, 
swirl  quickly  out  of  vision. 

As  the  mariner  goes  down,  the  clear  sky  around 
him  is  not  peopled  by  fantastic  forms  of  Jewish, 
Egyptian,  Greek,  or  German  myth.  Under  the 
smooth  sea  which  receives  him,  no  Satan,  no  Pluton 
dwells.  The  law  gave  him  birth,  set  him  to  move 
athwart  the  sea  of  existence,  called  the  voyage  Life ; 
is  now  about  to  end  it,  and  for  whatever  he  may 
now  be,  something  or  nothing,  he  is  still  held  by 
the  law.  Or  so  it  all  seemed  to  me  in  the  black 
silence  of  the  nights  when  the  days  were  ended  and 
their  hopes  were  buried  with  the  setting  sun.  The 


102  Tibet  and  Turkestan 

silence  and  the  darkness  were  as  waters  to  quench 
the  thirst  for  identity,  for  separateness. 

Although  it  was  clear  that  Lassoo's  six-day  limit 
was  purely  fanciful,  we  could  not  but  feel  a  bit  more 
lost  when  the  seventh  day's  sun  rose  on  our  un- 
broken solitude.  Our  men  would  undoubtedly  have 
made  great  effort  to  return  on  the  appointed  day. 
Moreover,  their  horses  must  now  be  dead  unless 
they  had  found  help.  The  grain,  less  than  a  bushel, 
could  not  keep  them  going  more  than  six  days  of 
hard  work.  We  counted  our  paltry  store  of  tins 
and  hefted  our  bag  of  rice.  This  had  now  to  be 
divided  among  our  three  servants  whose  bread  stock 
was  very  low,  Mohammed  Joo  and  Lassoo  having 
been  supplied  generously  for  ten  days'  constant 
riding  or  walking.  Allowing  Anginieur  and  myself 
together  one  box  of  sardines,  a  one-pint  tin  of  pork 
swimming  in  water,  a  cup  of  rice,  and  four  ounces 
of  bread,  and  to  the  men  a  cup  of  rice  and  eight 
ounces  of  bread  (for  the  three),  we  were  still  good 
for  eight  days.  Happily  the  tea  supply  would  go 
even  a  little  longer.  Oh,  blessed  beverage !  As  we 
were  quite  inactive,  the  rations  would  have  been 
satisfactory  but  for  the  extreme  cold,  which  de- 
manded the  production  of  a  lot  of  heat  units.  We 
usually  spent  fifteen  hours  in  bed,  covered  in  due 
form  with  all  our  trappings,  thus  minimising  the 
heat  losses. 

It  was,  perhaps,  an  hygienic  regime ;  we  could 
not  eat  enough  to  satisfy  appetite,  but  we  had 
enough  to  tame  hunger.  The  only  severe  trials 
proceeding  from  our  larder  came  when  some  un- 
readable label  gave  us  a  mere  mess  of  cabbage,  with- 


Camp  Purgatory  103 

out  meat,  for  our  pihe  de  resistance.  Then  we 
gripped  our  belts  and  had  doubts  as  to  Russian 
civilisation.  The  men  were  stolid  and  uncomplain- 
ing, though  Mir  Mullah's  resigned  assertion  that 
Allah  had  surely  chosen  this  spot,  as  his  burial- 
ground  did  not  tend  to  make  the  two  younger  ones 
light-hearted.  And  the  old  man's  voice  was  dis- 
tressingly broken  and  womanish  when  lifted  up  in 
long  prayers  which  every  day  became  more  plaintive. 
There  was  a  note  of  dissolution  in  it,  of  incorporeal- 
ity,  which  shivered  one's  nerves.  Was  it  ugly  of 
me  to  have  Achbar  tell  him  to  pray  like  a  man,  not 
like  a  weeping  child? 

When  we  had  been  in  Camp  Purgatory  a  week 
three  crows  began  to  visit  us,  our  only  friends. 
Achbar  said  these  birds  would  eat  nothing  but  men 
and  horses,  and  that  they  knew  three  days  in  ad- 
vance when  God  meant  to  give  them  a  feast.  We 
laughed  at  him  and  flung  stones  at  the  crows. 
Then  we  discovered  some  fish  insultingly  curling 
under  the  ice  of  a  near-by  pond.  Here  was  occu- 
pation and  food,  if  we  were  successful.  Fish-hooks 
were  found  and  let  down  through  ice-holes.  The 
cunning  beasts  viewed  our  stratagem  and  sailed 
away.  Several  hours  of  several  days  were  patiently 
dedicated  to  such  wiles,  but  each  night  closed  up 
our  silly  breaches  in  their  walls,  glazing  over  an 
undiminished  number  of  these  water  foxes. 

The  tenth  night  was  a  blue  one,  for  we  had  laid 
great  stress,  when  instructing  our  messengers,  upon 
the  importance  of  sending  some  word  on  that  day, 
in  case  help  had  been  found,  even  if  our  men  could 
not  themselves  return.  However,  nothing  remained 


104  Tibet  and  Turkestan 

to  us  but  to  await  the  designs  of  slow-moving 
Fate. 

Three  of  our  ponies,  having  nothing  else  to  do, 
had  now  died.  The  others  were  festering  racks, 
their  proper  sores  having  spread  and  grown  more 
malignant  under  the  pack-saddles,  which  Mir  Mullah 
had  not  removed  during  the  whole  period  of  inactiv- 
ity. Anginieur  was  still  a  prisoner  to  his  leg, 
charging  himself  at  times  with  being  a  burden  upon 
the  move,  which  now,  he  thought,  we  ought  to  at- 
tempt. But  it  was  not  difficult  to  convince  him 
that,  without  a  single  horse  that  could  carry  a  bur- 
den, we  were  not  all  tied  to  his  leg,  but  that  all  were 
separately  tied  to  our  desolate  prison  ground  in 
a  common  inability  to  cope  with  conditions  all 
awry. 

The  eleventh  day  wore  away  to  its  afternoon; 
for  distraction  it  was  suggested  that  the  fishes  be 
bombarded  behind  their  ice-fortress.  Perhaps  our 
smooth-bore,  belching  out  duck-shot,  would  break 
the  ice,  and  repeated  cannonading  might  somehow 
reach  the  finny  garrison.  Three  futile  shots  had 
set  the  echoes  ringing,  when  lo !  an  answering,  dis- 
tant sound  rolled  up  from  the  valley's  hidden  stretch 
below  us.  The  long  strain  was  ended.  That  single 
rifle-shot  meant  life.  Then  masters  and  men  looked 
into  each  other's  eyes  as  brothers  and  strained  away 
their  gaze  toward  the  black  cliff  which  closed  the 
down-stream  view.  When  the  sober,  silent  joy  of 
first  relief  had  changed  to  laughing  gaiety  that  felt 
its  right  to  live,  our  anxious  watch  discovered  two 
horsemen  urging  up  the  valley.  In  half  an  hour 
they  were  at  our  sides,  the  faithful  two,  weary  with 


Camp  Purgatory  105 

long  travel,  radiant  with  success,  happy  because 
they  had  saved  their  friends. 

Achbar's  halting  words  were  spurred  to  tell  the 
story.  Four  and  a  half  days  down  the  valley,  their 
ponies  pushed  to  the  limit  of  endurance,  they  had 
at  last  found  man.  The  thirty-day  refrain  of  "Adam 
Yok"  was  ended.  Three  Kirghiz  tents,  set  where 
the  valley  widened  and  bore  abundant  grass,  shel- 
tered a  kindly  people.  The  exhausted  ponies,  the 
way-worn  men,  were  fed.  But  the  paterfamilias 
being  absent,  nothing  there  could  be  done  for  our 
relief.  Nearly  two  days'  away  were  two  other 
tents.  There  the  elders  had  gone,  there  our  mes- 
sengers must  hasten,  on  fresh  ponies  now.  The 
good  Kirghiz  were  quick  to  act.  Three  men,  four 
camels,  and  two  extra  ponies  were  at  once  set  in 
motion.  Grain  for  the  going  and  for  the  return, 
and  food  for  all,  were  promptly  gathered.  The 
Kirghiz  knew  the  valley  well,  though  none  had  gone 
as  far  up  as  was  our  camp.  Travelling  fast,  under 
the  friendly  constraint  of  our  servants,  they  covered 
in  four  days  what  we  afterwards  covered,  with  fair 
marches,  in  seven.  They  were  now  only  an  hour 
behind  our  Achilles  and  Ulysses.  Soon  we  saw  the 
familiar  swing  of  the  camels  rounding  the  black 
rocks,  and  ere  the  sun  set,  we  were  a  happy  camp 
of  friends.  So  material  a  thing  is  life  that  we  must 
mark  the  reassurance  of  it  by  eating  away  all  hunger 
and  all  appetite;  the  fresh  mutton  was  good,  the 
yak's  butter  was  good,  and  the  yak's  clotted  cream 
was  good. 

Good  and  surprising  it  was  also  to  learn  where  we 
were.  The  great  valley  was  that  of  the  Karakash, 


io6  Tibet  and  Turkestan 

one  of  the  principal  rivers  that  digs  a  torrential 
course  down  the  Kuen  Lun  Mountains,  to  fret  its 
way  through  the  slow  sands  of  the  Taklamakan, 
and  to  die  of  inanition  as  part  of  the  great  Tarim 
stream.  The  waters  which  appeared  between  Camp 
Abandon  and  Camp  Purgatory  were  evidently  its 
permanent  sources,  instead  of  the  much  more  dis- 
tant points  which  the  maps  had  heretofore  assigned 
to  that  character.  Thus  our  stumbling  among  the 
mountains  turned  to  some  good  account  in  the 
laborious  effort  which  man  has  made  to  know 
the  globe  he  inhabits. 

Then  came  the  blow  to  my  hopes.  The  Kirghiz 
would  not  go  farther  from  their  tents;  they  could 
not  help  me  to  get  back  to  Rudok.  We  must  go 
out,  if  we  wanted  to  be  saved,  by  going  northward, 
back  to  their  grazing  ground,  thence  westward  until 
we  should  reach  the  Karakoram  caravan  route  be- 
tween Yarkand  and  Ladak  Leh.  They  had  not  grain 
enough  to  furnish  me  forth  for  another  journey, 
even  if  I  had  the  horses,  and  they  could  not  afford 
to  part  with  such  animals  as  I  should  need  for  such 
an  attempt.  Man  is  an  essentially  Unsatisfied  De- 
sire and  an  Irritated  Sensibility.  These  people  had 
come  in  the  nick  of  time  to  save  my  life;  their 
refusal  to  help  me  Rudokward  was  in  every  way 
reasonable,  yet  there  was  a  moment  of  rebellious  in- 
dignation. Soon,  however,  It-might-have-been  was 
buried  deep  in  It-is,  and  we  turned  towards  thoughts 
of  departure.  Something  like  thirty  days  must  pass 
ere  we  could  reach  the  railway  on  the  far  north  of 
India,  but  the  route  was  known  to  our  Kirghiz  as 
far  as  the  link  that  should  bind  Camp  Purgatory  to 


A  morning  bath  at  Kashgar. 


Camp  Purgatory  107 

a  well-known  trail,  thence  to  all  the  Yarkand-Ladak 
world.  And  at  Ladak  we  knew  the  telegraph  could 
be  reached — that  was  only  twenty  days  away. 

There  should  be  some  hardship  still — the  Karako- 
ram  route  is  not  Rotten  Row — but,  barring  such 
accidents  as  are  always  possible  in  crossing  glaciers, 
snow  masses,  and  narrow  defiles,  we  might  now 
consider  ourselves  at  the  railway  station  in  Rawal 
Pindi,  or  in  Paris,  for  that  matter. 


CHAPTER   VIII 

GLACIERS,  YAKS,  SKELETONS,  A  LOVE  AFFAIR,  AND 
A  HIGH  SONG  ON  THE  KARAKORAM  ROUTE 

A  RETRIEVE  of  the  luggage  at  Camp  Abandon, 
a  day  of  rest  for  the  weary  ones,  plenty  of 
grain  in  the  bellies  of  the  surviving  ponies,  and  we 
were  off  again  down  the  dismal  valley  whence  had 
come  our  salvation.  We  were  delighted  to  find  that 
Anginieur,  once  trussed  up  on  his  mount,  could 
"stay  put"  without  much  suffering.  Then,  the 
third  day  out,  came  a  sensation,  and  for  the  game 
leg  the  beginning  of  its  cure.  We  had  a  roaring  fire 
made  of  shrubs  that  grew  at  least  three  feet  high, 
the  most  gigantic  vegetable  we  had  seen  since  leav- 
ing Polu.  The  leg  was  fairly  roasted  by  the  leaping 
flames,  and  a  luxurious  bien  fare  took  hold  of  Angi- 
nieur's  soul. 

Then  two  days  later  came  the  triumphal  entry 
into  the  Kirghiz  camp.  What  a  simple,  hearty 
welcome  from  these  good  people!  Their  little 
population  normally  filled  the  three  lodges — those 
felt-warmed,  lattice- framed  tents  which  sparsely  dot 
all  the  wilds  of  Central  Asia.  One  was  given  to  the 
sahibs;  one  received  all  the  men,  a  dozen  of  them; 
while  women  and  children  swarmed  in  the  third.  It 
would  be  pleasant  to  believe  that  one-fourth  of  all 
the  Christians  whom  one  must  meet  in  an  ordinary 

108 


Glaciers,  Yaks,  Skeletons         109 

life  should  possess  the  elementary  virtues  developed 
as  they  were  in  this  band  of  nomads,  dwelling  in 
the  western  wilds  of  Tibet,  hundreds  of  miles  from 
their  kind.  They  were  dignified,  yet  respectful; 
they  were  poor,  but  honest ;  they  were  hospitable, 
but  not  fawning;  we  were  helpless  in  their  power, 
and  they  sold  their  scant  provisions  and  their  labour 
(vital  to  us)  for  the  usual  Central  Asian  prices.  On 
the  mere  word  of  our  men  they  took  Russian  gold 
in  payment,  though  they  were  familiar  with  no 
money  save  the  Chinese  silver,  and  must  send  the 
gold  to  Yarkand  or  Kashgar  for  exchange. 

The  service  of  the  camels  that  brought  us  out, 
including  the  men  who  tended  them,  was  charged 
at  forty  cents  per  day  each.  The  ponies  which  we 
rode  were  also  forty  cents  each  per  day,  including 
the  necessary  grain,  which  is  here  very  precious,  as 
it  must  be  brought  by  caravan  from  Yarkand.  The 
Good  Samaritan  could  not  have  better  played  the 
role  which  he  created  than  did  these  Mussulmen, 
astray  from  temple  and  from  mosque.  Judging 
from  the  glimpses  of  Kirghiz  life  which  we  had 
while  crossing  the  Ala'i  Mountains  from  Osh  to 
Kashgar,  I  had  thought  these  nomads  quite  careless 
about  all  religious  ceremonial,  as,  indeed,  must  be 
probable,  since  they  are  never  in  communities  where 
they  may  be  assembled  in  pious  celebrations.  Yet 
so  strong  was  the  hold  of  the  Prophet's  law  that  the 
morning  sun,  looking  into  their  cheerless  camp, 
found  all  the  men  in  genuflexion  toward  Mecca. 
This  persistent  but  unostentatious  performance  of 
the  prayer  rite  is — well,  it  is  not  European,  or,  shall 
I  say,  not  Protestant  European. 


no  Tibet  and  Turkestan 

Yaks,  camels,  horses,  sheep,  these  are  their 
wealth.  Tradition  seems  to  give  the  right  of  graz- 
ing in  certain  valleys  to  certain  families,  who  must 
have  several  places  of  accustomed  resort  in  order  to 
keep  their  animals  in  condition.  Few,  I  believe, 
have  been  found  living  at  higher  elevations  than  our 
friends,  who  spent  regularly  a  part  of  each  year  in 
the  spot  which  received  us,  at  an  elevation  of  four- 
teen thousand  feet  above  sea.  If  their  pasturage  is 
good  they  may  eat  meat  not  infrequently ;  if  scant, 
they  must  not  vary  from  milk,  in  many  forms,  and 
bread.  This  they  obtain,  by  exchange  of  skins  or 
condensed  milk,  from  the  caravans  that  may  pass 
nearest  their  camps.  So  also  they  obtain  their 
clothing,  which  is  generally  heavy  and  well  made. 
Their  rugs  are  home-made  and  excellent.  The 
women  are  modest,  though  not  veiled.  The  high, 
white  turban  of  myriad  folds  seems  never  to  be  laid 
aside,  though  the  whole  day  is  filled  with  a  leisurely 
industry,  milking,  cooking,  weaving,  nursing  babies. 
They  work  quietly;  one  never  hears  the  scolding 
and  quarrelling  which  so  frequently  advertise  the 
concourse  of  working  women  in  civilised  lands. 
Their  faces  are  strong  and  comely,  but  not  viva- 
cious. Both  men  and  women  seem  gentle  with 
children,  who,  like  their  parents,  are  not  noisy. 
The  babies  cry  but  little,  unless  ill.  They  all 
seem  to  suffer  from  colds,  nasal  catarrh  being  not 
uncommon. 

While  our  new  caravan  was  being  organised, 
clothes  patched,  and  bread  cooked,  we  passed  two 
days  in  Capuan  ease  at  Camp  Kirghiz.  The  tent 
was  warm,  and  one's  eyes  harden  to  the  smoke. 


Glaciers,  Yaks,  Skeletons         m 

We  put  our  camp  folding-table  in  commission  again, 
stretched  our  legs,  all  four  of  them,  in  defiance  of 
phlebitis,  and  voted  the  world  a  merry  one.  Then 
we  were  off,  following  the  stately  camels,  not  to  be 
warm  again  for  a  week  or  more ;  but  there  was  food 
a-plenty  and  action  a-plenty.  We  were  bound  for 
Sasar,  several  days'  march  beyond  the  junction  with 
the  Yarkand-Leh  caravan  route.  There  we  must 
change  camels  for  yaks,  thus  to  get  over  the  great 
glacier  on  which  pad-feet  would  slip  and  ingloriously 
sprawl  the  humped  majesty  of  Asia. 

In  the  week's  hard  march  we  passed  one  habita- 
tion, a  single  Kirghiz  tent,  whose  owner's  cattle 
struggled  for  existence  in  as  dismal  a  loneliness  as 
hermit  could  desire.  We  stopped  there  while  our 
attendants  gathered  a  few  small  sticks  from  the 
furze-growth.  The  men  of  the  family  were  absent, 
but  we  were  permitted  to  sit  by  the  scant  fire  and 
watch  the  household  life  of  the  women.  One  of 
the  daughters  wore  the  matron's  turban ;  her  sisters, 
comely  girls,  were  not  yet  mated.  One  of  them, 
however,  was  the  fianc/e  of  a  young  man  in  our 
caravan.  It  was  a  pretty  play  of  hide-and-seek  we 
witnessed.  When  his  voice  was  heard  approaching 
the  tent,  she  bustled  quickly  behind  a  screen,  where 
she  must  remain  while  he  warmed  his  fingers.  Sur- 
rounding nature's  severity  is  thus  reflected  in  their 
customs.  He  must  not  see  her  during  the  year  of 
their  engagement,  then,  with  guise  of  swift  violence, 
he  will  seize  her  away  to  some  lonely  neighbouring 
tent,  distant  fifty  miles  or  more.  Does  the  picture 
please  you,  O  Araminta?  No  matter:  there  are 
deep  reasons  for  it,  which  I  could  better  explain  to 


ii2  Tibet  and  Turkestan 

your  mother  than  to  you.  In  the  decent  veil  of 
figure,  the  fact  may  thus  be  presented :  If  the  pent- 
up  volume  of  some  mountain  lake  can  find  but  one 
outlet,  down  into  some  one  valley  whose  wasting 
sands  shall  be  fertilised  into  life  by  the  rushing 
waters,  and  if  the  due  season  be  not  come  for  the 
flood-letting,  then  it  is  better  that  the  valley  be 
hidden  from  the  covetous  lake  by  some  great  dam 
(or  slender  screen)  of  custom. 

The  women  were  neatly  clad  in  Bokhara  patterns 
of  the  cheap  silks,  which  give  colour  to  brown 
humanity  in  Central  Asia.  When  I  wondered, 
through  Achbar,  where  our  hostess  did  her  shop- 
ping, "From  the  caravan,"  she  said.  "Have  you 
ever  been  to  Yarkand,  only  ten  days  away  to  the 
north-west?"  "No."  "Or  to  Leh,  only  ten  days 
away  to  the  southward?"  "No,  the  caravans  pass 
two  days  from  here."  So  this  happy,  incurious 
female  had  never  seen  the  bazaars,  palpitating  with 
men  and  women,  though  to  say  ten  days'  journey 
there  is  as  a  few  hours  to  our  nervous  selves.  Had 
she  not,  for  neighbours,  those  whom  we  had  left 
three  days  ago?  Yes,  she  had  even  seen  one  Euro- 
pean before,  when  in  another  camp.  Was  not  her 
existence  full  enough? 

When,  a  few  days  later,  we  struck  the  main  trail 
beaten  by  the  foot-fall  of  the  centuries  we  felt  that 
we  were  again  suddenly  caught  in  the  whirl  of  life's 
currents.  Now  caravans  were  met — one,  two,  or 
three  each  day.  Now  we  got  tobacco  and  sugar; 
we  even  had  news  of  a  friend,  the  Hindoo  Aksakol 
from  Yarkand,  en  route  to  his  old  home  in  the  Pun- 
jab and  now  just  a  day  ahead  of  us.  All  the  while 


Glaciers,  Yaks,  Skeletons         113 

we  were  gaining  elevation,  the  cold  growing  sharper ; 
water  carried  in  ice-cakes  to  provide  the  dry  camps ; 
fuel  in  precious  bundles  on  camel-back,  two  stretches 
of  four  days  each  being  wholly  without  vegetation. 
When  we  mounted  the  great  Karakoram  Pass  we 
were  eighteen  thousand  three  hundred  feet  above 
the  sea,  the  fourth  time  we  had  exceeded  eighteen 
thousand  feet  since  leaving  Polu.  The  route,  which 
is  often  designated  by  naming  this  pass,  is  abomi- 
nable, but  the  divide  itself,  while  rough  and  cold,  is 
not  perilous  save  when  snow-covered.  We  crossed 
without  difficulty,  but  were  reminded  of  the  true 
merit  underlying  the  reputation  given  to  the  spot, 
by  an  almost  unbelievable  number  of  horse-skeletons 
which  blaze  the  way  for  more  than  a  day's  march 
on  either  side.  Where  the  death-harvest  had  been 
most  rich,  they  could  be  counted  a  hundred  to  the 
quarter  mile.  Legs  ridiculously  in  the  air,  heads 
absurdly  ducked  between  legs,  backs  broken,  backs 
curved,  necks  defiantly  lurched  upward,  rampant, 
bodies  half  set  up  on  haunches,  every  possible  fan- 
tastic position  was  seen,  as  resultants  of  three  forces 
— rigor  mortis,  gravitation,  and  vulture.  Thus  in 
regions  uninhabitable,  death  remains  the  only  evi- 
dent monument  of  the  transient  life  that  ventures 
here. 

Throughout  the  vast  length  of  the  Karakoram  and 
Himalayan  ranges  Nature  seems  to  have  raised  these 
tremendous  masses  that  here,  wrapped  in  spotless 
white,  she  might  sleep  undisturbed  by  her  inquisi- 
tive progeny,  her  enfant  terrible,  restless  man.  But 
in  vain.  Children  of  the  desert,  children  of  the 
delta,  led  by  love  of  gain,  led  by  lust  of  war,  for 


ii4  Tibet  and  Turkestan 

thousands  of  years  they  have  climbed  and  crawled 
over  the  frowning  mountains.  Religion  too  has  cast 
its  spell  over  the  minds  of  men,  to  send  them  across 
these  uplifted  sands  and  snows,  some  uttering  the 
battle-cry  of  Mohammed,  some  chanting  Buddha's 
peaceful  name.  And  after  the  fever  of  it  all  reigns 
Icy  Death. 

It  was  the  chill  hand  of  night  which  drew  us  into 
the  unwonted  life  of  Camp  Sasar,  the  bourne  to 
which  our  Kirghiz  led  us,  the  term  of  their  travel, 
the  limit  of  the  camel's  usefulness.  Here  were  en- 
closures, unroofed  walls  of  stone,  mute  prophecies 
of  return  to  the  world  of  man.  The  lune,  the  demi- 
lune of  brooding  nature's  refuge  were  now  taken ;  it 
remained  to  storm  the  citadel's  self, —  the  bleak 
heights  of  snow  and  ice  which  put  a  cruel  crown  on 
Sasar's  head.  It  had  been  hard  to  understand  Ach- 
bar's  report  of  this  strange  sentinel-post  of  com- 
merce. We  had  learned  that  it  was  a  point  of 
exchange  and  of  deposit  for  goods  of  all  kinds,  but 
that,  save  for  the  passing  caravan  men,  it  was  still 
"Adam  Yok."  How  can  precious  bales  be  left, 
guarded  only  by  the  untenanted  rocks?  Yet  so  it 
is — opium  lies  here  in  many  two-hundred-pound 
masses — left  by  Kirghiz  or  Turkestan's  caravans 
which  turn  backward  to  the  north,  taking  with  them 
bales  of  silk  or  cotton,  which,  perhaps  a  month 
before,  were  here  deposited  by  some  yak  caravan, 
shuttling  between  Leh  and  Sasar.  Meanwhile 
caravans  have  come  and  have  gone,  "through" 
caravans  of  ponies  paying  tribute  of  dead  to  the 
mountain  spirits,  and  "shuttle"  caravans  of  camels 
working  between  Sasar  and  the  north. 


Glaciers,  Yaks,  Skeletons         115 

Opportunity  breeds  the  act,  and  here  the  Euro- 
pean would  look  for  theft  and  deem  it  a  wrong 
almost  condoned,  provoked  by  negligence.  But 
this  upheaved  world  is  only  seeming  wide.  The 
perilous  track  which  we  have  followed  is  its  whole 
width,  for  man  ;  and  some  hundreds  of  Ladakis  and 
Yarkandis,  bound  in  a  sort  of  acquaintance-guild, 
are  its  population.  Familiar  to  each  other  are  they, 
nor  less  familiar  their  yaks,  camels,  and  ponies. 
These  honest  brutes,  in  conspiracy  with  the  very 
snows  and  sands,  spread  over  this  too-narrow  world 
their  tell-tale  tracks,  the  entangling  meshes  of  a 
Bertillon  system ;  and  the  keen  Hindoo  merchants, 
squatting  at  Srinagar,  Leh,  Kashgar,  and  Yarkand, 
those  master  minds  which  defy  nature  for  traffic's 
sake,  would  not  easily  let  go  the  unseen  threads 
which  bind  the  caravan-man;  they  are  harmless 
guiding  threads  if  the  opium  and  the  silk  find  their 
true  way  over  the  passes  to  the  destined  recess  of 
the  noisy  bazaar,  but  sure  strangling  ropes  if  aught 
should  go  awry.  So  honesty  salutes  necessity  as  her 
mother,  and  the  riches  of  the  Hindoo  may  be  left  for 
days  visited  only  by  that  blustering  roundsman,  the 
night  wind. 

We  were  three  caravans  camped  cheek  by  jowl 
among  Sasar's  rocks,  all  content  with  much  hot  tea, 
wherein  was  brewed  also  a  certain  sense  of  brotherly 
love,  of  sympathy  with  each  other,  compacted  to- 
gether in  struggle  against  the  night,  the  mountains, 
and  the  bitter  cold.  Even  the  luxury  of  giving  to 
the  poor  was  not  denied  us,  shaggy-haired,  dark- 
faced  men  from  the  Balti  country  coming  to  the 
camp-fire,  asking  bread  and  warmth  that  they  might 


n6  Tibet  and  Turkestan 

continue  some  hard,  wild  venture  across  the  mys- 
terious mountains  stretching  westward. 

One  of  the  caravans  of  Sasar  was  that  of  our  old 
friend,  the  Aksakol  of  Yarkand.  What  a  clear-cut 
face  he  had !  Our  European  type  seems  gross  when 
set  against  the  bronze  cameo  features  of  the  high- 
bred Hindoos.  And  such  hospitality  in  his  wel- 
come, in  his  congratulations  over  our  escape,  in  his 
pleasure  over  this  chance  meeting  within  the  heart 
of  the  great  mountains!  His  little  tent,  where  we 
sat  to  smoke  and  tea-drink,  seemed,  because  of  his 
kindness,  a  nest-like  home,  and  Achbar,  squat  in 
the  tent-door,  redeemed  himself  with  fluent  phrases, 
employing  at  least  fifty  words.  And  all  this  court- 
esy, this  true  charity  and  gentlemanly  spirit,  grew 
out  of  a  stomach  which  had  not  known  meat — no, 
not  even  pre-natally — for  generations  unnumbered. 
His  caste  (one  of  the  subdivisions  of  the  four  basic 
castes)  forbade  that  animal  life  should  feed  on  animal 
death. 

It  was  a  glorious,  breathless,  freezing  struggle  we 
made  on  the  morrow,  up  and  over  the  great  glacier 
and  the  vast  fields  of  feathery  whiteness.  Starting 
at  sixteen  thousand  five  hundred  feet,  we  were  soon 
testing  the  thin,  keen  air  of  eighteen  thousand  feet 
elevation  ere  the  icy  crest  was  gained.  And  from 
the  serene,  glistening  heights  five  thousand  feet 
above  us  we  felt  the  reproving  eyes  of  the  Himala- 
yas looking  down  upon  the  toiling  ants  that  strove 
and  sank  and  rose  again  in  the  rifted  green,  in  the 
drifting  white.  The  vision  that  comes  back  to 
me  is  one  of  supernal  clarity ;  across  it,  here  and 
there,  a  veil  of  snow-born,  wind-driven  mist ;  pressing 


Glaciers,  Yaks,  Skeletons         1.17 

through  it,  a  line  of  small  black  figures,  men  and 
yaks  and  ponies,  surging  slowly  forward  to  some 
end  known  only  to  these  heavily  burdened,  uncouth 
Tibetans  striding  cheerfully  in  the  van  of  the  pant- 
ing column.  Sound  is  dead.  It  lives  again  in  the 
heavy  grunt  of  some  shaggy  beast  as  he  slips,  re- 
covers, and  struggles  forward.  Then  up  to  the 
high,  clear  heaven  floats  the  wild  song  of  the  moun- 
taineers. It  rings  in  the  empty  air,  a  triumphant 
bugle-cry  flung  into  the  face  of  Mother  Nature, 
who,  with  icy  fingers,  would  slay  her  children  and 
shroud  them  here  in  the  eternal  silent  snows.  It  is 
a  brave,  confident,  manly  note.  By  memory's  trick 
comes  back  to  me,  as  my  soul  rises  to  the  carol, 
another  song  of  Asia — the  last-heard  music  ere  this 
— three  months  agone,  in  fetid  Bokhara.  'T  is  the 
low  whining  and  womanish  drone  of  the  boy  bay- 
adere, the  voice  of  weakness  and  of  shame. 

And  if,  indeed,  in  the  tired  tumult  of  the  city 
the  only  concord  heard  is  that  which  sated  luxury 
sounds,  forget  not  that  Asia  has  yet  her  mountain- 
tops  and  her  mountain  tribes,  who  shall  lift  their 
incorrigible  heads  to  shout  and  to  echo  the  cry  of  a 
strong  man's  heart.  We  may  spurn  the  heavy-eyed 
sloth  of  the  crowded  town,  but  this  man  of  the  hills 
is  our  brother. 

Another  memory  of  the  great  glacier  is  that  which 
pictures  two  among  the  exhausted  toilers,  slow, 
overcome,  but  persistent.  Last  of  all  were  they  to 
reach  the  spent  camp  at  nightfall.  They  had  joined 
us  near  the  Kirghiz  tents,  the  good  Hadji  (pilgrim) 
and  his  wife.  Bound  from  some  obscure  town  in 
Western  China,  they  had  reached  Yarkand  in  sixty 


n8  Tibet  and  Turkestan 

days;  had,  through  mischance,  been  separated  from 
the  caravan  with  which  they  journeyed  thence;  had 
been  befriended  by  the  nomad  Kirghiz,  had  waited 
ten  days  for  our  coming,  and  for  another  ten  days 
had  now  been  our  patient,  courteous  companions. 
Each  rode  a  stout  pony,  which  must  carry  also  a 
twenty  days'  provision  of  bread  and  tea,  and  such 
thick  clothing  as  was  not  permanently  worn  on  the 
body.  No  daintiness  in  this,  my  lady  fair,  but  if 
your  husband  be  full  of  zeal  for  the  life  to  come,  if 
your  duty  and  your  pleasure  be  to  follow  him,  and 
mayhap  gain  heaven  also,  if  you  live  in  Western 
China,  and  if  Mecca  lie  across  vast  deserts,  titanic 
mountains,  burning  sands  and  freezing  snows,  then, 
O  lady  fair,  you  must,  like  the  rest  of  us,  Hadjis 
and  explorers,  bundle  your  delicate  body  in  many 
warm  folds  and  leave  it  there  for  many  cold  days. 
The  good  man  had  already  won  the  green  turban, 
but  now  his  soul  yearned  again  for  the  sacred  city, 
and  this  time  he  goes  to  live  in  the  shadow  of  the 
Kaaba  until  his  spirit  shall  have  been  caught  up  to 
its  awaiting  joys,  welcomed  home  by  the  compas- 
sionate Prophet,  whose  word  is  the  Law.  And  she 
goes  with  him,  a  plain,  brown  woman,  forty-five  or 
more,  unconscious  of  her  heroism. 

She  has  done  more  for  duty  on  earth  and  for  hope 
of  heaven  than  you,  average  man  or  woman,  may 
dream  of  doing.  Her  home  life  was  of  scant  com- 
fort,— you  would  consider  it  hard,  indeed, — but  it 
was  languorous  ease  compared  with  the  strain  which 
for  weeks  she  had  now  uncomplainingly  borne.  It 
is  three  months  since  she  quitted  some  quiet  shelter- 
ing roof,  another  month  or  more  ere  they  may  reach 


Glaciers,  Yaks,  Skeletons         119 

the  railway,  then  pell-mell  in  the  crowded  carriages 
of  slow  trains,  to  Bombay  or  to  Karachi.  Thence,  as 
steerage  passengers,  a  weary,  suffocating  voyage  to 
Jeddah;  then  the  short,  dusty,  teeming,  glorious 
march  to  Mecca,  the  body  begrimed  and  worn,  the 
soul  enraptured.  And  if  disease  and  death  be  met 
on  the  way,  they  are  seen  to  have  angelic  smiling 
faces — they  are  the  welcome  guides  to  Paradise.  Of 
true  truth  in  all  this,  nothing  I  suppose;  but  of 
dream  truth,  of  life-supporting,  joy-making,  faith- 
begotten,  heart-believed  truth,  a  great  deal.  The 
Mohammedan  Hadji  really  believes  in  immortality 
and  makes  light  of  things  mundane,  as  you  and  I 
would  do  if  the  creed  of  after-life  were  fixed  in  our 
minds  as  is  the  creed  of  next  winter's  cold  weather. 


CHAPTER   IX 

TREES,  TIBETANS,  AND  THE  TELEGRAPH— PANAMIK 
AND  LADAK  LEH 

O  PLENDID  visions  of  mountain  majesty, wrapped 
O  in  cloudy  glory,  ten  thousand  feet  above  Sasar's 
crest;  gorges  riven  as  though  by  a  giant's  thrust  at 
the  heart  of  mighty  hills ;  quick  avalanches  crashing 
down  the  startled  slopes ;  torrents  of  boulders,  wait- 
ing to  be  unleashed  by  some  puny  force,  that  they 
may  rush  to  fill  a  valley  or  destroy  a  fated  caravan ; 
such  are  the  memories  that  come  and  go  as  now,  in 
slippered  ease,  I  nimbly  fly  where  once  I  crawled. 
They  are  memories  that  will  not  tether  to  the  pen. 
But  there  comes  another  image  more  tractable.  At 
the  turn  of  the  dizzy  trail,  we  look  across  the  chasm 
whose  sides  we  scale,  and  lo !  a  tree,  the  first  to  wave 
familiar  salute  since  fifty  days  or  more.  Then  the 
naked  mountains,  as  if  resenting  the  too  intimate 
prying  of  man,  now  soon  to  be  seen  in  his  dwellings, 
began  to  clothe  all  their  secret  places  with  leafy 
growth. 

The  eglantine  overhung  our  crag-encircling  path, 
and  its  perfume  subtly  evoked  memories  of  the  wild 
approaches  to  Harar  in  distant  Abyssinia,  of  plan- 
tation lanes  in  sunny  Louisiana,  of  youth  and  man- 
hood garlanded,  perfumed  by  this  sweet,  bold, 
flower.  While  our  delighted  eyes  are  not  yet  wonted 

120 


Trees,  Tibetans,  and  the  Telegraph     121 

to  these  lovely  sights,  when  we  have  climbed  by 
an  ever-reversing,  ever-returning  trail  far  up  the 
granite  facing  of  a  high  cliff,  there  lay  far  below  us 
the  wondrous  Nubra  valley,  green,  gold,  and  russet 
groves,  yellowing  fields  of  grain,  and  behold !  there 
were  men's  houses!  White,  squared,  well-roofed, 
walled  about,  and  set  in  orderly  array,  trooping 
toward  a  goodly  village  called  Panamirgh.  A 
nobler  sight  one  may  not  see  than  this  Himalayan 
vale  set  against  the  far-shining  snow -peaks  from 
which  the  high  gods  look  down  to  bless.  Here 
Lamaism,  sheltered  by  Sasar's  icy  rampart  on  the 
north,  by  Kardung's  glassy  heights  on  the  south, 
still  turns  its  prayer-wheels,  flutters  its  painted  ap- 
peals to  the  passing  breeze,  builds  its  white  shrines 
more  numerous  than  the  living  men,  piles  its  myriad 
carved  stones  on  roadside  monuments,  sounds  its 
solemn  drums,  teaches  Buddha's  distorted  word, 
yet  practises  a  peaceful  life  and  a  resigned  death, 
all  unmindful  of  the  thin  streams  of  Hinduism  or 
[ohammedanism,  flowing  backward,  forward,  along 
the  road  which  time  and  Asia's  genius,  Patience, 
have  worn  through  the  tranquil  valley,  over  the  for- 
bidding mountains,  this  way  to  Yarkand  and  far 
Kitai,  and  there  to  Leh,  Kashmir,  and  all  the  In- 
dian world  beyond. 

Dark  superstitions  may  haunt  the  minds  of  these 
remote  valley  people,  but  the  outward  expression 
of  religious  feeling  is  seemly  enough.  The  chortens 
— wayside  tombs  of  saints  and  shrines  for  living 
prayer — are  white,  shapely  structures,  so  much  be- 
yond the  building  capacity  of  any  one  generation 
of  this  sparse  people  that  they  attest  the  secular 


122  Tibet  and  Turkestan 

piety  of  many  ancestors.  So,  too,  the  long,  low 
mounds  whereon  are  placed  countless  stones  re- 
sembling this  book  in  size,  each  bearing  in  neat 
carving  the  myriad -throated  prayer,  "Om  mani 
padma  Hum."  From  twenty  to  a  thousand  feet 
in  length,  from  ten  to  thirty  feet  in  width,  these 
masses  built  up  of  rubble  walls  bear  not  less  than 
millions  of  these  mute  appeals  for  grace — and  this 
in  a  valley  some  sixty  miles  long,  and  containing 
not  more  than  six  thousand  souls.  The  people 
have  been  hewn  from  the  political  body  to  which 
they  belonged.  Lhasa  is  now  only  their  spiritual 
capital  since  the  Maharajah  of  Kashmir,  some  forty 
years  ago,  struck  at  Leh,  where  reigned  a  Ladaki 
king  who  bent  to  the  distant  Dalai  Lama's  sway. 
Now  the  king's  palace  is  empty,  and  Kashmiri  offi- 
cials lord  it  over  a  land  whose  cue-wearing  heads 
avouch  the  long  reach  of  China's  emperor,  overlord 
to  wide-stretched  Tibet. 

The  present  rulers  from  the  West  seem  to  have 
emptied,  by  fright  or  famine,  several  of  the  big 
monasteries,  even  here  in  secluded  Nubra,  distant 
three  hard  days  from  Leh.  But  now  again  the 
dingy  red  robes  thread  back  and  forth,  carrying 
consolation  to  satisfied  believers.  Groups  are  seen, 
wayworn,  of  calm  face  and  worthy  mien,  who  are 
just  in  from  Lhasa,  five  hundred  miles  away. 
They  bring  superstition,  inspiration,  and  direc- 
tion, as  it  would  be  brought  from  Rome  to  a 
secluded  valley  in  Spain  or  Mexico,  by  some  pilgrim 
priest  of  long  ago.  Perhaps  because  of  the  recent 
exodus  of  priests  to  Lhasa,  the  lamas  now,  in  all  the 
Ladak  country,  are  not  a  devouring  horde  of  locusts, 


Trees,  Tibetans,  and  the  Telegraph     123 

eating  up  the  people's  plenty,  but  seem  to  be  a  re- 
served and  dignified  body  not  over-numerous  for 
men  so  profoundly  religious  as  are  the  Tibetans. 
Throughout  this  vale  of  delight  there  seemed  to  be 
a  reasonable  comfort,  and  with  less  apparent  dis- 
tinction between  very  rich  and  very  poor  than  I 
have  seen  elsewhere.  The  houses  are  rather  large, 
generally  of  two  stories  and  of  solid  build ;  the 
monasteries,  from  three  to  six  stones  high,  rose  in 
dignity  from  all  but  inaccessible  rocks.  Supplica- 
tion to  heaven  is  literally  "in  the  air."  Nearly 
every  dwelling  floats  a  closely  written  flag  of  prayer. 
Occasionally  a  vertical  cylinder,  set  in  an  outer 
niche,  permits  the  passing  worship  to  be  made  by  a 
respectful  twirl,  or  the  deposit  of  another  prayer- 
slip  that  shall  find  its  way  to  others  inside  the  cylin- 
der; whence,  if  there  be  a  listening  God,  I  think  its 
spirit  shall  fly  to  Him,  for  in  His  sight  there  should 
be  no  little  and  no  big,  no  poor  and  no  rich,  no 
ridiculous  and  no  solemn  in  religious  ceremonial. 
Your  softly  breathed  prayer,  but  for  the  thought  in 
your  heart,  is  only  a  vibration  of  the  air.  The 
cylinder-prayer  makes  also  a  vibration  of  the  air, 
and  as  there  is  a  thought  behind  it,  the  celestial 
values  may  be  equal. 

In  each  village  we  were  shown  to  some  proper 
place  for  receiving  the  stranger ;  abundant  food  was 
procured, — that  is,  chickens,  eggs,  milk,  and  bread, 
— and  no  effort  was  anywhere  made  to  annoy  us  by 
extortion.  A  pleasing  drink,  tasting  'twixt  wine  and 
beer,  cheered  the  thirsting  palate.  Curiosity  to 
watch  our  movements  was  strong  but  bridled.  The 
women  looked  frankly  at  us  and  merited  our  admiring 


124  Tibet  and  Turkestan 

glances  at  their  comely  features  and  their  turquoise- 
decked  tresses.  The  men  were  genial,  frank,  and 
dirty.  We  once  more  had  become  sensitive  in 
the  matter  of  cleanliness, — we  could  again  criticise 
the  unwashed, — for  had  we  not  bathed?  Yea,  at  the 
first  village,  riding  up  the  mountain-side  near  a 
high-perched  monastery,  we  found  a  hot  spring,  a 
blessed  gift  from  the  Plutonian  deeps !  The  awful 
need  which  it  subserved,  the  revelling  joy  which  it 
produced,  give  to  that  water  a  perennial  current 
through  memory's  greenest  field. 

The  Maharajah  of  Kashmir  was  mighty  enough 
to  send  conquering  armies  from  Srinagar,  sixteen 
marches  distant  from  Leh,  and  reduce  a  country 
whose  military  vigour  had  been  sapped  for  ages  by 
partial  application  of  the  non-resistance  principle — 
dear  to  the  hearts  of  Gautama  and  of  Jesus.  But 
the  Maharajah  himself  was  not  mighty  enough  to 
escape  the  "protection"  of  a  valorous  European 
people  whose  hearts,  like  those  of  all  their  brethren, 
have  never  learned  to  love  humility.  So  it  came 
to  pass  that  in  Panamirgh,  twenty  marches  distant 
from  the  nearest  permanent  British  official,  we  came 
upon  a  proclamation  of  King  Edward's  enthrone- 
ment, avouched  in  proper  English  and  hung  in  the 
dak-bungalow.  In  such  strange  and  outcast  places 
do  the  antennae  that  radiate  from  London  and  Pekin 
now  learn  to  touch  each  other,  to  irritate,  withdraw, 
return,  first  at  Leh,  then  at  Lhasa,  then  farther 
afield. 

Thrusting  aside  all  contemplation  of  the  eventual, 
the  probable,  and  the  vexed  ethical,  we  rode  merrily 
on  through  this  valley  of  sumptuous  scenery, 


Trees,  Tibetans,  and  me  1  elegraph     125 


ordered  industry,  inordinate  piety,  and  average 
morality.  On  the  third  day  we  were  at  the  base 
of  huge  Kardung.  Its  glacis  of  solid  ice  proved 
steeper,  its  eighteen  thousand  feet  elevation  nar- 
rower, than  the  front  and  crest  of  Sasar.  The 
ponies  on  which  we  had  cantered  through  the  low 
lands  (twelve  thousand  to  thirteen  thousand  feet 
elevation)  were  quite  out  of  the  climbing  if  burdened 
with  aught  save  their  own  weight.  They  could  have 
done  it  on  stones,  but  the  deceitful  ice  laid  hold 
upon  their  feet  and  tripped  them  to  a  bone-breaking 
fall.  Substitution  of  yaks,  happily  found  at  the  base 
of  the  ice-slope,  permitted  us  to  top  the  slippery 
height,  whence  we  looked  far  down  into  the  Indus 
valley.  Now,  indeed,  the  way  was  won,  for  ere  the 
night  had  gone  two  hours,  we  were  in  the  dak- 
bungalow  at  Leh,  and  there  were  English  maga- 
zines, a  few  months  old,  but  for  us,  contemporaries. 
Lassoo  had  told  us  of  the  Padre  Sahib — we  were  to 
see  white  faces  again.  Of  these  we  found  five  all 
told :  an  Englishman  and  his  wife,  a  German  and 
his  wife,  and  a  young  unmarried  Englishwoman,  a 
few  months  out,  all  of  the  Moravian  Mission.  Yea, 
and  there  were  others,  baby  faces  in  both  house- 
holds. It  was  the  usual  story — pathetic  to  all  save 
the  actors. 

For  forty  years  this  mission  has  been  at  Leh,  and 
there  are  forty  poor  Ladakis  who  profess  some 
sort  of  allegiance  to  the  gods  of  the  good  sahibs. 
Plainly,  conversion  is  not  supposed  to  be  an  intel- 
lectual process.  Its  usual  course  may  thus  be  de- 
scribed :  There  is  a  dispensary  whose  bottles  and 
powders  affect  the  body.  There  are  brilliant  chromos 


i26  Tibet  and  Turkestan 

shown  before  dispensation  of  medicine.  They  repre- 
sent, crudely  enough,  certain  stirring  scenes  related 
in  the  Bible.  The  sahib,  who  knows  the  secrets  of 
the  bottles,  tells  the  wondering  yokel  that  here, 
wearing  a  purple  or  green  robe,  is  God  on  earth, 
here  are  His  chosen  friends,  here,  in  sickly  yellow,  a 
man  new-raised  from  the  dead.  He  tells  them  that 
God  on  earth  gave  rules  for  living,  the  same  in  gen- 
eral terms  which  they  have  heard  from  Buddha; 
some  particulars,  and  many  European  interpreta- 
tions, constitute  the  bill  of  differences.  Chiefly  this 
is  told:  If  you  believe  that  the  God  on  earth,  of 
whom  the  sahibs  now  speak,  is  the  true  and  only 
such  manifestation ;  then,  living  as  padre  sahibs 
live,  you  may  inherit  with  them  a  glorious  life  eter- 
nal. If  you  do  not,  the  alternative  is  not  pleasant. 
I  do  not  know  how  much  it  is  emphasised. 

As  result  of  all  this, — the  medicine,  the  chromo, 
the  good  sahib,  son  of  a  powerful  people, — some 
humble  soul  does  now  and  then  declare  that  he  be- 
lieves the  God  of  the  sahib  and  of  the  bottles  to  be 
a  good  spirit  for  worship,  and  he  is  declared  a  Christ- 
ian. No  quibbling  here  about  higher  criticism,  no 
paltry  inquiries  into  the  authenticity  of  the  Gospels, 
no  question  of  homoosian  and  homoiosian ;  no  tear- 
ing to  pieces  of  the  miracles,  no  fright  as  to  the 
concordance  between  Jew-made  prophecies  and 
Jew-rejected  fulfilments.  The  sahib's  medicine  is 
good,  the  sahib's  chromo  is  brilliant,  the  sahib's 
words  are  kind — then  the  sahib's  God  may  safely 
be  acknowledged.  Poor,  dull  brain,  poor  tired 
heart !  Rome  and  the  Bishop  of  Westminster  are 
as  far  away  from  him  as  is  the  seventh  pleiad,  but 


0 

og 

— 

fr 

3 

PQ 


Trees,  Tibetans,  and  the  Telegraph     127 

the  medicine  brought  back  the  little  one's  fleeting 
life.  Such  a  brain  and  such  a  heart  find  God  in  the 
quinine  and  give  Him  such  name  as  may  please  the 
sahib. 

I  think  it  would  be  a  destructively  pathetic  expe- 
rience for  the  missionaries  were  it  not  that  the 
gentle  hand  of  daily  custom  leads  us  around  the 
sharp  flints  of  disappointed  emotion.  The  mission- 
ary becomes  attached  in  human  ways  to  the  human 
lives  around  him,  and  the  fierce  letter  of  denun- 
ciation against  the  unbeliever  is  unbelieved.  The 
simple,  helpful  days  at  the  mission  slip  quietly  into 
years.  Jesus  will  convert  the  heathen  in  His  own 
good  time;  meanwhile  faith,  and,  above  all,  interest 
in  the  new  wing  of  the  dispensary,  in  the  new  baby 
of  last  year's  sole  convert,  in  the  water-on-the-knee 
case  reported  yesterday,  in  the  folklore  that  is  being 
slowly  transformed  into  literature,  in  the  last  white 
man  who  flitted  through  the  station,  in  the  papers 
from  home  with  their  strange  talk  of  wild  excite- 
ment on  the  Bourse,  in  the  letters  from  home  with 
their  talk  of  mother  and  sister  and  cousin — even 
this  growing  now  a  little  strange  to  the  tranquil 
hearts  in  the  mission.  Such  lives  have  I  seen  in 
Abyssinia,  in  Alaska,  in  Egypt,  in  Turkey,  in  Tur- 
kestan, in  Kashmir,  in  India.  'T  is  true  my  passing 
glance  could  not  read  all  that  time  had  writ  on 
the  exiled  faces.  Sometimes  disease  had  drawn 
its  furrow  across  the  once  placid  brow;  sometimes 
the  eyes  still  mourned  a  dead  love  or  a  dead  ambi- 
tion. But  generally,  carried  on  the  smooth  tide 
of  occupation  in  medical  and  school  work,  the 
mission  life  passes  the  measured  hours  with  such 


128  Tibet  and  Turkestan 

contentment  as  you  may  find  in  household,  in  club, 
or  in  office. 

The  predecessors  of  those  whom  we  met  in  Leh 
had  grown  old  and  had  grown  away  from  our  world 
in  this  sequestered  western  capital  of  Lamaism. 
Age  had  come  on  to  stale  their  powers,  but  not  their 
interest  in  this  Himalayan  home.  Much  persua- 
sion, we  were  told,  was  needed  to  start  them  on 
the  twenty  days'  march  to  Rawal  Pindi,  where  the 
shrieking  locomotive  should  remind  them  of  that 
noisy  civilisation  which  was  their  birthright. 

It  was  a  stiff  climb  which  took  us  up  to  the  mon- 
astery, temple,  and  palace,  all  looking  protectingly 
down  upon  white  houses,  half  hid  by  trees,  hay- 
covered  roofs,  and  broad  bazaars.  In  the  temple  is 
a  great  statue  of  Buddha  thrusting  its  broad  shoul- 
ders through  the  roof,  the  head  sheltered  by  an 
added  structure.  One  mounts  a  stair  in  order  to 
look  into  the  quiet,  benignant  face.  Here  is  no 
agony  of  the  Crucified.  Repose  of  self-submersion, 
of  self-immersion,  of  the  "dew-drop  in  the  ocean" 
— that  is  the  motive  of  a  Buddhist  artist.  This  was 
Gautama's  dream  long  time  ago,  and  the  dream  has 
been  in  the  minds  of  millions  since,  and  men  have 
tried  to  carve  and  paint  this  dream  into  the  attitude, 
into  the  face,  into  the  very  hands  of  Buddha  statues, 
hoping  that  other  men,  gazing  in  rapt  vision,  might 
also  have  this  dream,  and  that  these  many  should 
try  to  live  it,  and  thus  be  led  away  from  self,  the 
sooner  to  fall,  formless,  calm,  as  the  dew-drop  in 
the  ocean.  For  further  guide  to  him  who  gropes, 
candles  are  set  at  the  feet  of  the  statue,  as  saying, 
"  Here  is  eternal  light !  " 


Trees,  Tibetans,  and  the  Telegraph     129 

The  Christian  looks  through  such  symbolic  lights 
and  sees  the  suffering  martyr,  save  where  Rome,  in 
substitution,  answering  the  heart's  cry  for  beauty 
and  for  love,  has  set  Mary's  beatific  face;  then, 
above,  he  sees  the  radiance  of  the  risen  Saviour  who 
beckons  to  Him,  to  the  self,  and  smiles  a  welcome 
to  that  self  in  its  eternal  individuality.  How  should 
the  souls  of  men  be  gloriously  tried  if  each  might 
meditate  quiet  hours ;  first  in  a  noble  cathedral,  with 
its  via  crucis,  its  saints,  its  woman-god,  its  Christ 
crucified  and  triumphant ;  passing  thence  to  a  near- 
by temple,  where  the  silent,  brooding  peace  of  the 
Buddha  might  be  contemplated  while  time  and  self 
slip  unnoticed  by;  then,  moving  the  body  but  a 
stone's  throw,  entering  a  lofty  mosque,  untenanted 
by  statue  or  by  picture,  unfurnished  save  by  the 
Koran  on  a  reading-desk,  empty  save  of  the  felt 
presence  of  the  only  God.  This  was  an  insistent 
thought  as  we  wandered  through  the  sanctuaries  on 
the  high  hill  at  Leh.  At  my  side  one,  a  priest  of 
Christ;  another,  reverential  before  the  Buddha's 
altar  which  he  daily  tended ;  and,  waiting  at  the 
door,  faithful  Lassoo,  looking  toward  Mecca  as  the 
sun  sank  behind  the  Himalayas. 

The  king's  palace,  a  rambling,  uneven,  dark  but 
imposing  structure,  is  now  unpeopled.  Across  the 
Indus,  yonder  a  dozen  miles  away,  lives  the  illus- 
trious, once  royal,  family,  poor  but  honest.  Power 
has  gone  to  the  Dogra,  and  his  power  in  turn  has 
become  but  a  mirage,  floating  at  the  pleasure  of  the 
British  sun.  One  of  the  passions  of  kings  all  the 
world  over  (this  does  not  include  Napoleon)  seems 
to  be  that  for  private  chapels.  Our  Ladaki  monarch 


i3.o  Tibet  and  Turkestan 

worshipped  in  several  elaborately  furnished  sanctu- 
aries, one  of  which  had  not  been  opened  for  years, 
it  was  said,  when  an  obsequious  attendant  showed 
us  its  unprovided  altars. 

On  a  high  balcony  or  rampart,  outside  the  palace, 
queer  little  flags  were  flying,  efficient  to  protect  the 
royal  residence  from  devils,  we  were  told.  But  that 
may  be  symbolic.  To  European  minds  it  would 
seem  much  more  important  to  know  how  to  get 
water  into  the  palace  than  how  to  defy  devils  out  of 
it.  Our  own  forefathers  of  the  Middle  Ages  like- 
wise put  their  monasteries  (can  a  monastery  supply 
forefathers?)  and  their  castles  in  just  such  impossible 
places  as  these  Tibetan  buildings  occupy.  It  is 
humiliating  to  think  that  our  monks  were  probably 
equally  dirty  with  the  Lamas,  and  more  obviously  so 
since  the  .dust  of  which  we  are  all  made  has,  in  these 
people,  been  left  in  its  native  hue — and  brown  upon 
brown  is  still  only  brown. 


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CHAPTER    X 

LADAK  LEH  TO  RAWAL  PINDI— FROM  YAK  TO  RAIL- 
WAY   VIA    PONY     TRAIL,     OVER    THE    HIMA- 
LAYAS, INTO  THE  VALE  OF  KASHMIR 

WHEN  we  had  seen  the  sights  of  Leh  and  had 
watched  its  four  thousand  people  pour  along 
the  bazaar,  when  we  had  broken  bread  with  the 
hospitable  missionaries,  when  we  had  sent  the  tele- 
grams that  quieted  fears  at  home,  then  came  the 
breaking  up  of  our  little  force.  Mir  Mullah  had  not 
been  willing  to  brave  the  Karakoram  route ;  he  had 
left  us  at  the  Kirghiz  camp,  and  his  prayers  by  this 
time  were  rising  again  from  a  Kashgar  roof.  Las- 
soo  (who  was  here  in  the  bosom  of  one  of  his  several 
families)  and  Achbar,  must  go  with  us  to  Srinagar, 
for  there  were  no  English  along  the  great  caravan 
road  from  Leh  to  Kashmir,  and  we  must  make  shift 
to  speak  with  the  attendants  at  dak-bungalows. 

Because  you  have  probably  read  Kipling,  that 
word  has  gone  into  my  text  unexplained,  but  by 
some  scurvy  trick  of  fate  you  may  be  outside  the 
Kipling  pale ;  then,  for  you,  dak-bungalow  is  post- 
road  house.  They  are  open  to  all  white  travellers 
and  to  big  natives.  You  are  supposed  to  have  your 
own  bedding,  and  it  is  best  to  have  with  you  any 
European  food  which  you  chance  to  crave.  The 
dak-bungalow  is  a  shelter,  has  several  rooms  and 

131 


132  Tibet  and  Turkestan 

sometimes  chairs.  Your  servants  care  for  you  as 
best  they  can,  and  you  put  down  in  a  book  found 
in  the  bungalow  an  entry  of  the  rupee  which  you 
have  paid  the  native  attendant,  and  which  goes  to 
the  up-keep  fund.  The  whole  caravan  route  is  well 
kept.  There  is  a  British  Commissioner,  assisted  by 
a  native,  to  look  after  it. 

Mohammed  Joo  and  Osman,  faithful,  humble, 
uncomplaining,  these  two  would  go  back  to  Yarkand, 
and  they  must  hasten  over  Kardung,  Sasar,  and  the 
Karakoram,  that  the  snows  of  coming  winter  might 
not  fatally  entrap  them,  or  imprison  them  idly  in 
Ladak.  Grateful  for  the  backsheesh  which  their 
courage  had  so  generously  earned,  they  left  us,  and 
out  of  our  sight  faded  two  who  shall  live  in  our 
hearts,  eminent  citizens  of  that  republic  of  the  affec- 
tions into  which  the  memory  of  the  traveller  intro- 
duces men  of  every  colour,  every  tongue,  every 
creed. 

Now  we  are  off  again,  clattering  through  the 
Himalayas,  two  stages  in  each  day,  changing  ponies 
at  every  post.  For  two  or  three  days  we  are  still  in 
the  country  of  the  Tibet  people :  long,  black,  and 
dirty  cues,  three-cornered  hats,  rusty  lama-gowns, 
fluttering  prayers,  graven  stones,  rude  shrines  in 
high  places,  eyrie  monasteries,  the  scant,  laborious 
fields  rock-anchored  on  the  steep  hillside,  huddled 
villages,  the  sinuous  and  sparkling  Indus,  the  un- 
attainable heights  of  snow  crowning  the  barren  slopes 
— such  was  the  ever-changing,  ever-recurring  vision 
which  fleeting  day  disclosed,  while  night  was  for 
deep  sleep.  Then  at  a  turn  of  the  trail  we  were 
again,  and  for  the  last  time,  suddenly  ushered  into 


Ladak  Leh  to  Rawal  Pindi       133 

the  serene  presence  of  the  Buddha,  where  he  stood, 
carved  in  the  living  rock,  as  if  the  impersonated 
Earth  should  to  her  toiling  children  say:  "Peace — 
let  the  dewdrop  to  the  ocean  fall." 

Just  a  moment's  meditation,  then  we  cantered  on, 
out  of  Lamaism,  and  slept  in  another  world,  a  pukka 
Mohammedan  village.  Pilgrims  are  met  in  the  fine 
feathers  of  new  preparation ;  they  have  but  yester- 
day bade  good-bye  to  homes  which  shall  not  see 
them  until  they  return,  glad  and  crowned  with  the 
green  turban  of  the  Hadji.  A  dozen  of  them  were 
sheltered  one  night  by  the  same  roof  under  which 
we  had  found  place  for  our  bedding.  When  the 
waking  hour  had  come,  I  lay  awhile  amazed,  sor- 
rowful, hearing  from  the  neighbouring  sleeping- 
rooms  such  groans  and  cries  as  we  give  to  our 
dearest  dead.  Alas!  has  misfortune  already  joined 
their  caravan?  Has  Death  so  soon  struck  at  those 
who  go  gladly  to  meet  him,  but  who  would  first  win 
the  Prophet's  smile?  Perhaps  I  may  serve  them  in 
their  sudden  distress,  perhaps  the  loved  one  is  not 
yet  dead,  and  even  that  minimum  of  European 
medical  science  which  is  mine  may  happily  win  in 
the  struggle  with  disease.  Achbar,  lethargic  with 
cold  and  sleep,  is  called — sympathetic  messages  are 
carefully  set  forth.  Unmoved  by  the  wailing,  he 
slowly  answers,  "That  is  prayer."  Yes,  but  we 
must  try  to  help.  "They  cry  for  Ali." 

Ah !  now  my  heart  is  relieved.  He  whom  they 
mourn  died  thirteen  centuries  ago.  His  name  was 
Ali,  and  he  was  Mohammed's  nephew.  Many 
people  thought  him  a  sort  of  prophet  on  his  own 
account  and  that  he  should  reign  as  Caliph.  Others 


134  Tibet  and  Turkestan 

thought  differently  and  enforced  their  opinion  by 
thrusts  of  a  poisoned  weapon,  which  ended  Ali's 
life  in  the  year  66 1  A.D.  His  saintly  reputation 
lived  and  grew,  and  these,  our  chance  companions 
of  the  caravan  trail,  were  lamenting  his  demise,  as 
all  good  Shiites  do  and  have  done,  for  lo!  these 
centuries  gone.  But  their  grief  is  controllable.  Its 
expression  lasts  just  so  many  minutes,  and,  as  I  re- 
membered when  the  spell  of  sympathy  was  broken, 
is  rhythmic,  more  cadenced  even  than  the  rudely 
musical  lu-lu  which  the  black  women  in  Africa  chant 
in  misfortune's  hour. 

The  recovery  of  spirits  takes  place  automatically 
as  soon  as  the  wailing  is  ended.  Our  combined 
cavalcade  set  off  as  merrily  as  if  Ali  had  never  lived 
or  had  never  died. 

Our  speedy  march  soon  left  the  cheerful  mourners 
far  to  the  rear.  We  hastened  on,  dodging  past  the 
slow  caravans  of  commerce,  meeting  here  the  tins  of 
Caspian  kerosene  which  once  we  saw  in  far  Baku, 
giving  the  courtesy  of  the  road  to  a  native  governor 
or  what-not,  whose  escort  swarmed  the  trail  and 
whose  invisible  wife  rode  for  hours  on  end,  silent 
and  stiff  in  her  litter.  We  chatted  (you  may  imagine 
chatting  through  Achbar)  with  coolies  who  pack 
dried  fruits  two  hundred  miles  or  more  across  the 
Himalayas,  fifty  pounds,  pig-a-back;  we  talked  with 
a  golf-stockinged,  English-speaking,  joke-loving  na- 
tive Commissioner,  fresh  from  Kipling's  pages,  who 
proposed  a  drink  and  mystified  Anginieur  by  calling 
it  a  "peg,"  and  then  we  crossed  the  Zoji  Pass,  thus 
ending  all  hardship  and  dropping  into  fair  Kashmir. 
This  pass  is  not  quite  twelve  thousand  feet  high, 


Ladak  Leh  to  Rawal  Pindi       135 

but  it  gave  us  a  hard  struggle  through  a  new-fallen 
snow.  It  is  an  ugly  spot,  claiming  native  victims 
almost  every  winter  and  stopping  for  several  months 
of  each  year  the  thin  stream  of  official  or  sporting 
travel  which  sets  toward  Leh.  There  were  twenty- 
five  Europeans  up  and  down  during  the  summer 
which  had  just  ended  as  we,  the  last  birds  of  the 
season,  made  our  escape  from  the  Himalayan 
mountain-cage,  to  spread  an  easy  wing  over  India's 
open  plains. 

We  haltingly  trudged  the  steepest  slopes;  the 
ponies  rolled  and  lunged  heavily  in  the  belly-deep 
snow,  losing  the  trail  on  dangerous  side-hills,  and 
finally  we  had  once  more  the  joy-killing  experience 
of  discharging  the  animals  and  man-handling  the 
loads.  But  night  found  us  under  smoky  shelter — 
we  rejoiced  in  our  success — and  the  morrow !  Are 
there  not  a  few  days  in  your  memory  which  are 
garlanded  for  their  beauty  and  are  perfumed  by 
their  happiness? — the  day  you  learned  to  swim,  the 
day  you  went  to  college,  the  day  you  left  it,  the 
day  you  were  engaged,  your  wedding-day,  the  day 
you  won  your  first  case,  the  day  your  underwriting 
was  complete,  the  day  you  were  elected  to  the  office 
that  sought  you,  the  day  your  story  was  accepted? 
Such  a  day  comes  to  him  who,  breasting  still  the 
Himalayan  snows,  out  from  the  Himalayan  naked- 
ness, rides  down  from  Zoji  Pass,  viewing  the  glorious 
vestments  of  the  Sind,  where  it  rushes  to  sink  on 
the  fair  bosom  of  the  vale  of  Kashmir.  Hindoo, 
Afghan,  Persian,  and  Arab  have  seen  and  sung  this 
Eden,  whose  riches  of  spreading  branch,  clinging 
vine,  brilliant  flower,  and  sparkling  stream  have  for 


i36  Tibet  and  Turkestan 

ages  fed  the  famished  souls  of  travellers,  incoming 
from  all  the  bleak  mountains  that  guard  it.  Love- 
liness, that  would  charm  the  senses  in  any  land,  here 
ravishes  criticism  of  its  censure  and  receives  from 
flattered  imagination  the  crown  of  perfect  praise. 
By  nature's  unwonted  opulence  sober  judgment  is 
bribed,  and  declares  that  here  is  every  tree  and 
shrub  and  flower  that  would  delight  the  eye  in  gaz- 
ing wide  "from  China  to  Peru."  Set  against  this 
sudden  magnificence  the  splendid  verdure  of  Cha- 
pultepec,  of  the  flaming  Catskills,  or  the  Abyssinian 
Nile  all  seemed  to  me  but  grudging  penury  ; 
so  false  is  memory,  so  powerful  is  the  force  of 
Now. 

If  the  soul  be  but  ripe  for  it,  a  gentle  hill  in  Surrey 
may  outrear  the  mightiest  Alps.  But  as  we  exult- 
ingly  galloped  forward  there  was  no  introspective 
scalpel  that  might  pare  the  beauty  which  filled  our 
hearts.  Absolute,  relative — no  matter.  Life  be- 
came precious  because  it  contained  this  waving  of 
green,  golden,  and  red  banners,  and  each  of  us  could 
ride  through  the  rich  carnival  as  a  king  to  his  pre- 
pared heritage.  We  had  come  into  the  vale  of 
Kashmir  through  its  most  beautiful  gateway,  and 
we  were  among  the  few  Europeans  to  thus  have  the 
great  canvas  flung  before  them,  for  the  first  time, 
from  this  point  of  view.  The  general  travel  into 
Kashmir  has  been  from  west  and  south  to  Srinagar. 
If  then  Ladak  be  sought,  the  traveller  goes  up  the 
Sind,  as  we  came  down.  But  the  great  lower  plain 
will  already  have  shown  him  glorious  views  (though 
a  sparser  beauty),  and  perhaps  the  piled-up  riches 
of  the  narrow  valley  will  not  be  deemed  by  him  so 


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Ladak  Leh  to  Rawal  Pindi       137 

splendid  as  to  us  they  seemed,  coming  out  from 
months  of  travel  in  naked  lands. 

One  starry  night  we  spent  in  this  enchanting  spot. 
Near  by,  the  Sind  curbs  his  impetuous  speed  and 
purls  a  gentle  way,  while  his  valley  opens  a  gracious 
door  to  those  who  come  up  from  the  flat,  teeming 
field  below.  The  morning  gave  us  sunshine,  fresh 
eggs,  good  ponies,  and  light  hearts.  To  ask  more 
than  this  is  avarice.  And  now  if  the  eye  were  for  a 
moment  sated  with  the  leafy  luxury  spread  before 
it,  there  were  men  and  women  to  gaze  upon — clear 
eyes,  graceful  garments,  upright  mien,  and  some- 
what of  that  Caucasian  cleanliness  which  avouched 
them  as  our  kin. 

Neatly  uniformed  natives  were  directing  road- 
gangs  to  smooth  the  path  of  commerce,  and  then 
I  knew  that  I  smelled  the  blood  of  an  English- 
man, and,  dead  or  alive,  I  should  soon  find  him. 
Ere  an  hour's  ride  had  ended,  ponies  were  seen 
bearing  such  truly  squared  kit-boxes  as  are  unknown 
to  native  caravans,  and  coolies  were  met,  shoulder- 
ing gun-cases  which  fairly  cry  out  in  leathery  tongue, 
"We  were  made  in  England  !  "  Lassoo  and  Achbar 
mingle  in  the  train:  "This  is  a  Sahib's  caravan?" — 
"Of  course."— "And  the  Sahib?"— "He  is  there." 
Aye,  there  he  was,  and  the  very  back  of  him  all 
British,  from  the  comfortable  outing-gear  which  he 
wore,  to  his  imperturbable  tread  which  puts  sur- 
veyors' marks  on  the  vale  of  Kashmir  and  makes  it 
an  extension  of  Regent's  Park.  His  welcome  was 
not  the  less  courteous,  but  his  measured  surprise 
was  the  greater  when  the  two  white  men  who  bore 
down  upon  him  proved  to  be  not  British,  but  a 


138  Tibet  and  Turkestan 

Frenchman  and  an  American — rare  birds  in  that 
part  of  the  world.  Colonel  Sullivan  had  started,  a 
few  days  too  late,  to  make  Zoji  Pass  and  do  a  win- 
ter's shooting  in  those  fastnesses  which,  if  they 
would  but  yield  the  head  of  an  Ovis  Ammon,  would 
be  for  him  Paradise  enow.  Note  the  distinction 
between  Colonel  Sullivan's  ideal  retirement  and 
that  of  Omar  Khayyam.  The  inhospitable  wilds 
of  bleakest  mountains,  a  gun,  an  arduous  chase  of 
hermit  brutes — that  is  one.  The  other 

"  A  book  of  verses  underneath  the  bough, 

A  jug  of  wine,  a  loaf  of  bread,  and  thou 
Beside  me  in  the  wilderness; 

Oh!  wilderness  were  paradise  enow." 

Mark  particularly  the  absence  of  "Thou"  in  the 
first  ideal. 

There  you  have  the  conquest  of  the  Asia  that  is 
luxurious  or  literary  by  the  British  man,  who  has 
two  natures,  one  that  loves  and  builds  St.  James 
Street  and  the  National  Museum,  and  one  that  loves 
and  conquers  the  Himalayas. 

Hindoo  ruins,  mysteriously  suggestive ;  a  good 
hotel;  plenty  of  white  people,  sahibs  and  mem- 
sahibs;  golf  grounds;  gay  marriage-boats  on  the 
river  boulevard ;  shops  overflowing  with  fascinating 
goods  and  oily  smiles  of  the  merchants ;  a  meretri- 
cious palace  rising,  effective  withal,  from  the  water's 
edge  and  hiding  the  Maharajah's  many  wives ;  din- 
ners, all  mutton  because  the  pious  ruler  will  not 
have  beef  slain  in  his  realm ;  a  busy,  comely  people 
filling  all  the  bazaars;  two-storied  wooden  houses, 


Ladak  Leh  to  Rawal  Pindi        139 

somewhat  rickety  but  sufficient  unto  man's  needs; 
mosques  and  temples  in  neighbouring  rivalry ;  splen- 
did tree-lined  avenues  leading  toward  the  mountains  ; 
caravans  coming  and  going;  dogs  and  babies  under 
one's  feet  in  the  narrow  streets — such  is  Srinagar 
with  its  hundred  and  thirty  thousand  souls  domi- 
nated by  the  great  hill  Fakht-i-Suleiman — Solomon's 
throne — whose  crown  is  half-temple,  half-fortifica- 
tion. Around  it  waving  green  fields,  which  are  cut 
by  roads  straight,  smooth,  and  beautifully  shaded. 
And  beyond  the  fields  ever  the  white  guardian 
mountains.  The  whole  valley  is  such  a  spot  as 
would  be  chosen  by  the  high  gods  (if  they  had  not 
invented  man)  for  exclusive  garden-parties,  with  the 
rabble  of  lesser  gods  peeking  enviously  over  the 
walls.  Gods  failing,  the  English  will  doubtless  take 
and  "preserve"  it. 

Had  not  the  home-fever  now  laid  fast  hold  upon 
us,  we  should  have  lingered  in  this  fair  lotus-land. 
Our  horseback  days  were  past.  We  were  now  to 
roll  on  the  king's  highway,  four  good  wheels  beneath 
us.  Three  days,  and  sixty  miles  'twixt  rising  and 
setting  of  the  sun,  would  let  us  gain  Rawal  Pindi, 
lying  over  the  western  range.  These  are  not  tower- 
ing mountains  like  the  Himalayas,  but  high  enough 
to  have  cut  off  Kashmir  from  the  greasy  touch  of 
the  locomotive,  high  enough  to  have  given  for  ages 
almost  a  separate  history  from  that  of  the  surround- 
ing countries.  Englishmen  in  Srinagar  still  speak 
of  "going  down  into  India."  Most  of  those  who 
hot-weathered  in  the  English  hotel  had  already 
"gone  down,"  as  we  were  now  well  into  November. 
It  cost  us  a  pang  to  turn  our  backs  upon  Lassoo  and 


140  Tibet  and  Turkestan 

Achbar,  who  must  hasten  over  the  Gilgit  route  to 
Kashgar.  Lassoo  had  compounded  in  some  way 
with  his  Ladaki  wife  and  no  longer  talked  of  spend- 
ing the  winter  in  Leh.  In  parting  with  these  faithful 
servants  we  were  definitely  closing  a  short,  eventful 
act  in  our  life's  drama,  an  act  in  which  both  of  them 
had  nobly  played  their  allotted  parts.  So,  it  was 
with  a  yearning  back  to  the  Chang,  the  great,  deso- 
late, high  plains,  and  to  the  humble  companions 
who  had  shared  our  toils,  that  we  jumped  into  the 
impatient  tonga  and  were  swept  down  the  royal  road 
to  the  Outside.  And  the  Outside  is,  first,  Rawal 
Pindi,  which  is  on  the  railway,  then  all  India  lying 
before  us.  It  is  in  the  guide-books  and  in  Kipling. 
You  may  drink  it  as  beer  from  the  guide-books  or 
sip  it  as  nectar  from  Kipling. 


H 
<u 

•— 
o 
>, 


U 


CHAPTER   XI 

A   LITTLE   STUDY   OF   THE   MAP 

f)OLITICAL  history  is  as  the  flesh  applied  to  the 
1  dry  bones  of  the  skeleton,  geography.  Study 
of  the  one  implies  knowledge  of  the  other.  Were 
we  not,  from  youth  up,  generally  familiar  with  the 
geography  of  those  countries  whose  history  most 
concerns  us,  we  should  the  more  clearly  and  often 
be  brought  to  consider  a  relation  which  is  obscured, 
even  by  its  familiarity.  The  osteology  of  Central 
Asia  and  Tibet  is  peculiarly  important  to  a  study  of 
Asian  politics  because  of  its  unusual  characteristics. 
While  the  field  for  exploration  there  is  still  con- 
siderable, yet  the  important  outlines  have  been  well 
determined  by  recent  travel.  To  the  practised  eye 
the  map  (opposite  page  )  will  be,  perhaps,  more 
instructive  than  textual  description,  but  a  re'sumt  in 
words  will  aid  the  general  reader. 

[Let  us  begin  our  survey  at  the  point  where  we  crossed 
the  Russo-Chinese  frontier  on  the  way  from  Osh  to 
Kashgar — in  the  Alai  Mountains,  approximately  75°  east, 
40°  north.  Using  round  figures  for  all  distances  and  lo- 
cations, let  us  now  go  north-east  twelve  hundred  and  fifty 
miles.  We  shall  then  be  at  the  top  of  Mongolia,  95° 
east,  53°  north.  Everything  west  of  this  line  is  Russian, 
everything  east  of  it  Chinese — at  present, — and  our  top 

141 


142  Tibet  and  Turkestan 

point  is  within  two  hundred  miles  of  the  Siberian  Rail- 
way. Now  go  east  one  thousand  miles — Russia  to  the 
north,  China  to  the  south, — the  railway  generally  parallel 
to  our  line  of  march,  and  two  hundred  miles  away.  We 
have  reached  the  western  tip  of  Manchuria — but  the  dis- 
tinction between  Manchuria  and  Mongolia,  both  being 
Chinese  territory,  is  not  politically  important.  We  may 
go  eastward  another  two  hundred  miles,  into  Manchuria, 
making  this  second  line  twelve  hundred  miles  in  length 
— east  and  west.  Now  strike  south-westward  twelve  hun- 
dred miles, — on  a  line  nearly  parallel  to  the  first  one, — 
and  we  shall  have  left  Southern  Manchuria  and  Northern 
China  proper  (the  China  of  the  eighteen  provinces)  to 
the  east,  enclosing  Mongolia,  lying  to  the  west;  now 
westward,  on  a  line  which  refuses  to  be  even  approxi- 
mately straight,  for  it  must  follow  a  curve  of  the  great 
Altyn-Tagh — Kuen-Lun  range,  but  which  is  roughly  an 
east  and  west.  line.  We  have  now  nearly  closed  our  1200- 
mile  trapezoid.  We  have  reached  the  Pamirs;  and  by 
running  north  about  three  hundred  miles  we  are  back  at 
the  starting-point,  having  enclosed  the  area  known  as 
Mongolia,  and  in  the  south-west  corner  of  the  pentagon, 
which  is  nearly  a  trapezoid,  we  have  skirted  the  region 
known  as  Chinese  Turkestan — roughly,  one  million  and 
a  half  square  miles,  one  half  the  area  of  the  United 
States.  Now  for  Tibet. 

Go  back  to  the  south  end  of  the  third  line,  near  the 
lake  known  as  Kuku-Nor;  thence  go  southward,  cross- 
ing mountains  and  streams  if  you  can — a  hard  journey 
of,  say,  six  hundred  miles.  You  have  the  southern  part 
of  China  on  the  east,  Tibet  on  the  west.  Now  another 
twelve-hundred-mile  line,  trending  a  little  north  of  east, 
— Assam,  Bhotam,  Sikkim,  and  Nepal  are  on  the  south; 
Tibet  on  the  north, — and  you  have  been  cresting  the 
Himalayas  all  the  while.  The  valley  of  the  Brahmaputra 


A  Little  Study  of  the  Map        143 

has  been  crossed  at  its  unexplored  elbow,  where  it  turns 
south,  and  you  have  seen  it  in  the  great  valley  north  of 
you,  where  for  hundreds  of  miles  it  flows  from  west  to 
east  and  is  known  to  the  Tibetans  as  the  Tsang-po. 
Lhasa  is  in  the  valley  —  not  far  from  the  great  river. 
Now  to  complete  the  investiture  of  Tibet,  run  a  line 
northward  from  the  west  end  of  the  last  line,  a  little 
west  of  Nepal's  north-west  corner;  make  it  about  four 
hundred  miles  long  to  join  the  Kuen-Lun  range,  and  you 
will  thus  enclose  Tibet,  lying  to  the  east  of  this  last  line, 
with  Kashmir  and  part  of  the  north  provinces  of  India 
to  the  west  of  it.  Thus  your  straight  lines  are,  respec- 
tively, 1 200,  600,  1 200,  and  400  miles  in  length — about 
six  hundred  thousand  square  miles  in  area.  Every  foot 
of  the  boundary  is  in  great  mountains — on  their  tops  or 
crossing  impossible  gorges  of  rivers  that  flow  out  of 
Tibet;  none  of  those  you  have  crossed  flow  inward,  be- 
cause Tibet  is  high — very  high — and  the  rivers  are  seek- 
ing the  seas.  We  have  crossed,  in  drawing  the  first  line, 
north  and  south,  six  hundred  miles — the  headwaters  of 
the  Hoang-ho,  the  Yang-tse-Kiang,  the  Mekong,  the 
Salwin,  and  the  Irrawaddy — these  are  all  the  great  rivers 
of  China,  Siam,  and  Burmah.  Going  eastward  we  have 
crossed  the  Brahmaputra  and  the  headwaters  of  the 
Ganges,  or  its  northern  tributaries.  Going  north  we 
have  crossed  the  waters  of  the  Indus.  These  are  all  the 
great  rivers  of  India.  On  the  northern  boundaries  of 
Tibet  we  have  crossed  the  headwaters  of  the  Keria,  the 
Khotan,  the  Karakash,  and  other  smaller  streams  —  all 
going  to  swell  the  Tarim  or  to  be  lost  in  the  sands.  And 
the  Tarim  flows  inconclusively  into  an  inland  lake,  Lob 
Nor,  which  has  no  visible  connection  with  the  sea. 

And  so  it  was  also  for  running  the  boundary  of  Turkes- 
tan and  Mongolia,  except  for  the  desert  streams  from 
Tibet,  just  mentioned,  and  the  Kizil  Zu  near  Kashgar, 


144  Tibet  and  Turkestan 

also  a  Tarim  affluent.  We  found  nothing  coming  in — 
all  going  out.  We  crossed,  or  passed  near,  the  head- 
waters of  the  Amou  Daria  (Oxus),  the  Syr  Daria  (Jax- 
artes),  whose  waters  go  to  the  great  Russian  lake,  the 
Aral  Sea,  so-called.  Then  proceeding  on  the  long  lines, 
drawn  north-east,  then  east  around  Mongolia,  we  could 
cross  or  see  the  sources  of  the  Irtysh,  the  Yenisee,  the 
Lena  —  all  the  tribe  of  Siberian  streams  that  seek  the 
Arctic  Ocean.] 

We  may  now  give  meaning  to  the  long  circumfer- 
ential inspection — an  airy  journey  of  seven  thousand 
four  hundred  miles.  It  is  evident  that  we  are  deal- 
ing with  great  plateaus,  one  much  lower  than  the 
other.  The  Mongolia-Turkestan  region  has  an 
average  elevation  of  about  three  thousand  five 
hundred  feet.  The  Turkestan  region,  separately 
considered,  and  with  which  we  are  most  concerned, 
is  at  once  a  plateau  and  a  depression,  since  it  lies 
much  lower  than  the  mountains  surrounding  it. 
This  characteristic  is  not  so  marked  in  the  Mongol- 
ian region,  as  the  Gobi  desert  area  is  in  a  sort  of 
great  terrace-form,  stepping  up  to  the  surrounding 
mountains  eastward.  The  Tibetan  plateau,  in  all  its 
northern  (much  the  larger)  area,  is  approximately  at 
sixteen  thousand  feet  elevation.  The  great  valley, 
toward  which  the  slope  is  more  gradual  from  the 
north  than  from  the  south,  varies  from  thirteen 
thousand  to  eleven  thousand  feet  elevation ;  Lhasa 
is  between  eleven  and  twelve  thousand ;  Gyangtse, 
Leh,  and  indeed  all  the  other  considerable  towns 
in  similar  region  are  at  about  the  same  elevation. 

The  whole  of  the  three  great   regions  we  have 


A  Little  Study  of  the  Map        145 

considered,  Turkestan,  Mongolia  proper,  and  Tibet, 
may  be  broadly  put  down  as  desert,  save  for  a  few 
oases  (chiefly  artificial)  and  the  narrow  valleys,  in 
which  there  is  some  natural  grazing,  but  which  yield 
valuable  crops  only  to  irrigation.  There  are  some 
regions  of  good  natural  grazing,  considerable  in  ex- 
tent in  north-eastern  Mongolia.  But  no  important 
concentrations  of  population  are  found  except  in 
Turkestan  and  in  the  Tsang-po  valley  of  Tibet. 

Kashgar,  Yarkand,  and  Khotan,  which  you  have 
patiently  traversed  with  me,  are  the  three  big 
towns.  Lhasa,  largest  of  Tibetan  cities,  is  now 
well  understood  to  contain  not  more  than  twenty 
thousand  souls.  The  present  inhabitants  of  all  this 
almost  empty  empire  are  much  better  fitted  to  the 
physical  conditions  than  any  European  race.  And 
for  commerce,  the  Chinese  and  Hindus  will  un- 
doubtedly hold  all  the  trumps  as  against  possible 
white  competitors.  Yet,  despite  all  these  frowning 
facts,  Tibet  is  to-day  the  scene  of  a  great  and  bloody 
political  drama,  in  which  the  white  man  plays  the 
r61e  of — hero  or  villain — which  shall  it  be?  And 
to-morrow,  the  Turkestan  theatre  will  probably  open 
a  rival  show,  changing  the  dramatis  persona  and 
the  stage  setting,  but  closely  copying  the  plot  that 
unwinds  itself  in  Lhasa.1 

1  Some  geological  and  minor  geographical  notes  are  given  in  an 
Appendix,  "A."  They  are  taken  largely  from  a  paper  read  by  the 
author  before  the  Royal  Geographical  Society,  London. 


CHAPTER  XII 

THE    TIBETAN   PEOPLE— POLYANDRY    AND    MONAS- 
TICISM 

AT  the  foundation  of  Tibetan  character  there  is 
probably  the  Mongol  nature ;  an  East  Indian 
strain  has  come  in  from  the  rough  v/atershed  and 
flat  valleys  of  the  trans-Himalayan  world.  To  meas- 
ure the  relative  value  of  these  ethnic  elements  is 
impossible.  Nor  is  this  greatly  important  in  view 
of  a  diminishing  confidence  in  our  ability  to  sharply 
define  the  traits  distinguishing  those  various  stems 
which  constitute  the  early  Eurasian  family.  The 
lessons  taught  us  by  embryology  indicate  that  the 
differences  must  be  less  as  we  approach  the  begin- 
ning of  things,  and  we  look  more  and  more  to 
long-continued  geographical  and  climatic  effects  for 
explanation  of  existing  divergences. 

Even  in  adopting  the  highly  probable  theory  of 
multiple  origins  for  our  race,  we  are  yet  bound  to 
a  recognition  of  the  wide  range  and  enormous  force 
of  earth-environment  lying  between  the  pole  and 
the  equator,  between  sea-level  plain  and  mountain- 
top,  between  rain-sodden  swamps  and  arid  desert. 
So  restless  has  man  been,  that  history  records  not 
a  single  example  of  a  social  body  known  to  have 
been  subjected  to  but  one  type  of  physical  environ- 
ment during  the  period  of  its  development  from  the 

146 


' 


I; 


c 
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U 


c3 

II 

^ 


.. 
.   . 


The  Tibetan  People  14? 

beast-stage,  or  lowest  man-stage  up  to  its  present 
condition.  Assuming  a  tropical,  sea-level  condi- 
tion as  that  best  suited  for  first  development,  it 
may  fairly  be  concluded  that  the  inhabitants  of 
relatively  high  altitudes  and  high  latitudes  have 
passed  through  a  relatively  wide  range  of  ancestral 
experiences,  and  hence  carry  with  them  to  their 
modern  and  difficult  seats  an  average  temperament 
resulting  from  widely  varied  influences.  Thus,  in 
the  most  central  marrow  of  his  bones,  in  the  most 
hidden  promptings  of  his  soul,  the  Tibetan  may  be 
urged  by  secret  influence  from  the  sun-heated  slime 
of  the  Euphrates  delta,  from  the  salty  breath  of 
Aral  plains,  from  the  freezing  winds  of  Siberian 
forest,  from  the  heavy  exhalation  of  Indian  jungle. 
However  composite  he  may  have  been  when  first 
he  wrestled  with  niggard  nature  in  the  Tsang-po 
valley  and  its  even  less  hospitable  neighbour-lands, 
he  has,  since  that  time,  been  singularly  free  from 
miscegenation,  and  has  had  time  to  develop  a  type 
strongly  marked  by  the  very  special  conditions 
which  surround  him.  A  similar  isolation  may  be 
noted  of  peoples  in  the  far  north,  of  the  Arab  in 
his  inaccessible  deserts,  of  the  Abyssinian  in  the 
northern  part  of  his  high  plateau,  of  the  Chinaman 
in  the  core  of  his  valley  empire,  of  the  African  pig- 
my in  his  undesired  forests. 

Unique  physical  features  have,  in  each  case,  de- 
veloped unique  human  traits,  which  shall  be  found 
ineradicable  within  periods  of  ordinary  historical 
view.  The  process  of  "benevolent  assimilation" 
may  then  wisely  be  restricted  to  the  control  of 
external  relations  and  the  introduction,  slowly,  of 


148  Tibet  and  Turkestan 

a  few  of  the  material  ameliorations  which  art  has 
given  to  human  life.  Add,  perhaps,  a  regularly 
and  sufficiently  paid  body  of  public  officials  (always 
a  late  invention  of  society),  and  we  have  reached 
the  limit  of  healthful  assimilation  possible  in  a  body 
of  such  special  organisation  as  the  Tibetan  state. 
The  constraint  under  which  that  state  has  developed 
is  chiefly  to  be  found  in  the  scant  area  of  arable 
land,  the  lack  of  a  distributed  rain-supply,  and  the 
extreme  elevation  of  the  whole  country.  As  to  the 
effect  of  this  last  very  special  condition  we  are  un- 
able to  give  definition.  Certain  physiological  results 
may,  indeed,  be  determined,  but  just  how  these  are 
translated  into  physical  traits  we  do  not  know.  We 
may  assume,  safely  enough,  that  no  such  consider- 
able difference  of  physical  environment  can  be  with- 
out its  due  mental  effect  in  man.  It  is  not  easy  to 
argue  even  from  the  known  influence  upon  those 
who  suddenly  enter  these  conditions  back  to  the  in- 
fluence working  itself  out  in  the  lives  of  those  who 
have  never  known  sea-level  conditions — neither  they 
nor  their  fathers  for  many  generations  before  them. 
The  most  frequent  mental  manifestation  in  the  new- 
comer is  an  abnormal  nervousness,  often  enough 
culminating  in  insomnia. 

At  Leh  (eleven  thousand  eight  hundred  feet)  we 
were  told  that  a  certain  British  officer  had  found  it 
exceedingly  difficult  to  sleep  in  the  town  proper, 
and  frequently  descended  to  the  Indus  bank,  find- 
ing in  this  change  of  about  one  thousand  feet  enough 
relief  to  insure  normal  repose.  Akin  to  this  un- 
pleasant demonstration  of  nervous  excitement,  is  a 
certain  elation,  not  infrequently  felt,  if  great  physical 


The  Tibetan  People  149 

effort  be  avoided ;  and,  in  the  long  run  of  travel,  this 
may  become  a  cheerfulness  under  difficulties  which, 
at  lower  levels,  frequently  induce  heaviness  of  spirits, 
if  not  actual  discouragement.  Certain  it  is  that 
every  Tibetan  traveller  has  met  with  conditions 
which  are  always  on  the  edge  of  being  fatal  to  him, 
yet  in  no  recital  familiar  to  me  can  I  recall  any  ex- 
pressions of  that  gloom  which  the  honest  traveller 
in  Africa  or  other  lowlands  has  often  recounted. 
Certain  also  it  is  that  in  his  struggle  for  life  the 
Tibetan  is  cheerful,  almost  gay.  He  is  dirty — it  is 
not  easy  to  be  clean  when  you  are  poor  and  live  in 
a  perennially  cold  country,  where  fuel  always,  and 
water  often  enough,  are  in  scant  supply. 

Would  you  not,  O  dainty  reader,  compromise 
with  your  morning  bath  if  it  were  frozen,  if  you  had 
no  fuel  but  yak  dung,  if  you  must  strip  in  a  tempera- 
ture anywhere  below  zero?  Since,  in  spite  of  his 
dirt,  which  is  a  depressing  influence,  the  Tibetan  is 
still  a  cheerful  being,  he  may  fairly  thank  the  thin, 
keen  air,  the  clear  sunshine,  the  blue  sky,  for  the 
simple  joyousness  of  his  narrow  life.  But  these,  for 
their  good  results,  suppose  a  living,  nourished  body, 
warm  with  the  internal  combustion  of  food.  And 
there  's  the  rub  !  Nearly  all  the  Tibetan  fields  have 
been  wrenched  from  the  valley's  arid  flank,  have 
been  terraced  and  revetted  against  occasional  rain- 
flood,  and  then  have  been  fed  through  a  tortuous 
ditch  with  water  from  the  nearest  mountain-stream. 
The  difficulty  of  thus  obtaining  workable  areas  is 
great,  or,  in  other  words,  the  land  supply  in  this 
shut-away  world  being  so  closely  limited,  it  is  obvi- 
ous that  population  must  be  correspondingly  limited. 


150  Tibet  and  Turkestan 

The  further  difficulty  of  dividing  small  fields,  which 
must  retain  fixed  relations  to  an  irrigation  system, 
will  largely  affect  the  means  which  shall  uncon- 
sciously be  adopted  by  society  for  its  perpetuation 
without  increase.  Here,  indeed,  we  have  the  simple 
relation  considered  by  Malthus — the  pressure  of 
population  upon  sustenance, — a  relation  obscured  in 
our  world,  where  continued  expansion  into  new  lands 
(either  by  direct  immigration  or  by  commerce  with 
new  peoples)  and  continued  invention,  have  com- 
bined to  fill  easily  an  increasing  number  of  stomachs. 
But  the  Tibetans  are  so  situated  that  their  world 
is  apart ;  it  is  for  them  almost  as  if  it  were  all  the 
world — a  narrow,  snow-bound,  treeless,  upheaved 
world,  in  whose  rough  creases  and  folds  they  must 
scantily  live  or  incontinently  die.  That  some  sys- 
tematic check  upon  population  should  appear,  to- 
gether with  the  variable  checks,  war  and  pestilence, 
is  to  be  supposed.  The  relative  indivisibility  of  the 
land  has,  I  believe,  determined  the  particular  social 
forms,  polyandry  and  monasticism,  as  such  system- 
atic checks.  A  marriage  relation  so  unique  as  this, 
standing  quite  on  the  opposite  side  of  normal  mono- 
gamy from  the  more  familiar  variant,  polygamy, 
challenges  attention  and  at  once  declares  the  exist- 
ence of  special  predisposing  causes.  This  is  not  the 
occasion  for  insisting  at  length  upon  the  generally 
intimate  relation  of  property  to  marriage  relation. 
It  will  be  sufficient  to  summarise  thus :  In  highly 
developed  societies,  polygamy  (including  concubin- 
age) suggests  concentrated  wealth  and  privilege. 
Monogamy  is  democratic;  it  suggests  divided  prop- 
erty and  privilege.  Polyandry  suggests  poverty  and 


rt 

u 


The  Tibetan  People  151 

indivisibility  of  property.  If  the  last  generalisation 
seems  hastily  put  in  line  with  the  two  preceding  and 
more  obvious  principles,  I  think  its  truth  may  be 
established  by  inversion  of  reasoning  in  considering 
Tibetan  conditions. 

Suppose  a  family  of  three  sons,  without  just  now 
inquiring  into  the  marriage  relations  of  their  parents ; 
suppose  a  patrimony  of  miserly  fields,  which  are 
barely  sufficient  to  sustain  the  family  in  question, 
and  suppose  this  patrimony  to  be  physically  difficult 
to  subdivide;  the  house  and  court  being  obviously 
indivisible,  the  fields  practically  so  by  reason  of 
their  small  individual  areas  and  their  relation  to 
water  supply.  Suppose  it  to  be  exceedingly  diffi- 
cult, nay,  practically  impossible,  to  have  other  fields 
anywhere  within  a  distance  of  hundreds  of  miles. 
Suppose,  in  spite  of  these  untoward  conditions,  each 
of  the  three  brothers  to  marry  him  a  wife.  We  may 
then  postulate  as  follows:  There  will  be  a  fight 
about  the  division  of  floor  space ;  there  will  be  con- 
tinued wrangling  between  the  families ;  there  will  be 
frequent  and  murder-making  adulteries ;  and  there 
will  be  too  many  children  to  be  fed  from  the  meagre 
field,  hence  child-killing,  or  fell  disease,  must  cull 
the  o'er-rich  crop.  How  then  shall  two  objects 
be  accomplished,  that  of  securing  a  certain  sense  of 
unity  in  the  conglomerate  family  and  that  of  dimin- 
ishing the  number  of  births?  However  we  might 
have  ingeniously  devised  other  systems,  it  remains 
that,  impelled  by  the  forces  just  described,  the 
Tibetans  have  evolved  a  custom  by  which,  first, 
the  property  goes  into  the  control  of  the  eldest 
brother;  second,  the  wife  chosen  by  this  eldest 


152  Tibet  and  Turkestan 

brother  becomes  also  the  legal  spouse  of  the  younger 
twain.  The  children  of  this  woman  are  the  objects 
of  a  common  affection,  and  when  one  of  her  sons 
shall  have  grown  to  full  manhood,  and  shall  have 
married  a  wife  chosen  by  his  parents,  he  in  turn 
shall  come  into  a  primacy  of  power  over  the  patri- 
mony, his  elders  reserving  just  enough  to  prolong 
their  habitual  comfort — not  enough  to  prevent  the 
establishment  of  a  new  generation.  And  thus,  in- 
definitely, the  cycle  repeats  itself ;  not  less  regularly, 
not  less  blindly,  obeying  nature's  demand  for  new 
individuals,  than  elsewhere  in  more  favoured  lands, 
by  other  forms. 

Should  some  rare  good  fortune  befall,  then  the 
eldest  brother  may  choose  another  wife,  even  a 
third.  And  so  it  may  be,  if  the  first  wife  have  no 
children,  though  the  property  be  not  increased. 
And  even  when  the  number  of  wives  is  equal  to  the 
number  of  husbands,  in  polyandrous  marriage,  it  is 
thought  that  the  fertility  of  the  women  is  less  than 
if  living  in  the  monogamic  relation,  thus  securing  in 
part,  that  restraint  upon  population  which  is  most 
fully  developed  when,  as  is  often  the  case,  the  three 
brothers  have  but  one  wife. 

Chinese  officials  reported  to  M.  Grenard  that 
female  births  are  to  male  as  seven  to  eight.  If  this 
be  true,  we  have  here  a  second,  unconscious  effort 
to  diminish  the  surplus  of  unmarried  women,  which 
would  result  from  the  one-wife  and  three-husband 
marriage,  taken  as  the  type  of  polyandric  unions. 
But  it  is  by  no  means  the  universal  type.  Equal 
numbers  of  husbands  and  wives  in  one  family  are 
frequently  seen.  The  women  not  disposed  of  in 


The  Tibetan  People  153 

some  form  of  polyandry  are  found  in  polygamous 
and  monogamous  unions  (not  infrequent),  in  con- 
vents, and  in  the  loose  life.  As  the  various  forms 
of  marriage  operate  to  establish  almost  a  balance  of 
sex-numbers,  it  results  that  nuns  and  prostitutes  are 
probably  not  more  numerous  than  the  correspond- 
ing classes  in  monastic  Europe. 

The  withdrawal  of  men  into  monastic  life  does  not 
affect  the  problem  as  directly  as  it  would  in  a  mono- 
gamous country,  since  in  the  typical  polyandric 
family  it  merely  results  in  a  diminution,  by  one,  of 
the  number  of  husbands  married  to  the  wife  or 
wives.  It  diminishes  the  number  of  women  actu- 
ally married  under  some  form,  only  in  so  far  as  the 
monk  may  be  considered  as  belonging  to  a  family 
which  might  have  enjoyed  the  luxury  of  mono- 
gamic  or  polygamic  marriage.  Such  monks  are  not 
numerous.  M.  Grenard  thinks  that  the  various 
forms  of  marriage  are  seen,  as  to  frequency,  in  the 
following  order:  Several  husbands  with  several 
wives ;  several  husbands  and  one  wife ;  one  husband 
and  several  wives;  one  husband  and  one  wife. 
Whether  or  not  this  be  exact,  it  is  obvious  that  by 
giving  legal  recognition  to  this  variety  of  unions, 
the  Tibetans  have  created  an  elastic  system  easily 
adjustable  to  the  economic  condition  of  individuals 
or  communities.  Relatively  stable  as  are  these  aver- 
age conditions  in  Tibet,  it  may  well  be  supposed 
that,  in  so  far  as  they  may  be  disturbed  by  war  or 
pestilence,  there  will  be  change  in  the  position  of 
any  particular  type  of  union,  appearing  in  the  above 
series,  while  the  forces  work  toward  the  end  of  main- 
taining a  fixed  population  in  times  of  normal  peace. 


154  Tibet  and  Turkestan 

That  even  this  ingeniously  flexible  system  has  not 
been  able  to  prevent  the  considerable  development 
of  prostitution  goes  without  saying.  That  is  a  bye- 
product  of  all  systems,  or  rather  it  is  the  fixed  and 
necessary  product  of  forces  planted  in  us  when  we 
were  indiscriminate  as  are  the  unpropertied  beasts, 
and  even  more  indiscriminate  than  we  shall  be  when 
socialism  shall  have  swept  away  private  property  and 
marriage  with  it.  The  nested  wild  bird,  the  laired 
lion,  and  the  housed  man — those  who  have  individ- 
ually built  or  pre-empted  houses  for  themselves  and 
their  young,  these  are  mated.  But  the  man-pro- 
tected barnyard  fowl,  the  unsheltered  grazing  herds, 
and  the  state-protected  man,  these  are  or  will  be 
carelessly  indiscriminate.  And  as  we  never  find  a 
human  society  that  is  not  in  transition,  bearing 
marks  of  dead  processes,  so  we  never  find  a  perfectly 
symmetrical,  definite  marriage-system,  or  property- 
system  (these  two  are  wedded),  but  we  must  ever  find 
irregularities,  exceptions,  vermiform  appendices. 

Our  European-American  world  is  one  of  private 
property,  tempered  by  state  ownership  and  adven- 
ture to  wild  land.  Its  marriage-system  is  one  of 
monogamy,  tempered  by  adultery,  with  adventure 
into  the  indiscriminate  relation. 

It  is  not  improbable  that  other  influences  than 
those  just  described  have  conspired  to  the  establish- 
ment of  polyandry;  as,  for  example,  the  need  of 
protecting  women  and  children  when  separated  for 
long  periods  from  that  portion  of  the  male  popula- 
tion which  must  be  occupied  in  caring  for  distant 
flocks.  If  one  of  three  could  remain,  having  at 
teart  the  supreme  interest  of  the  Family,  which  en- 


The  Tibetan  People  155 

globes  all  his  own  personal  rights  and  properties,  he 
would  be  held  to  a  duty  which  works  in  favour  of  all. 
It  may  further  be  supposed  that  the  impossibility  of 
maintaining  strict  observance  of  the  marriage  tie, 
under  these  conditions  of  absence,  which  must  have 
been  more  frequent  in  the  past  than  now,  has  led  to 
the  practical  course  of  legalising,  and  thus  control- 
ling to  good  ends,  an  irregularity  which  would  other- 
wise breed  destructive  jealousies  and  cloud  titles  of 
descent.  The  whole  thing  may  be  viewed  as  an 
example  of  family  co-operation  carried  beyond  the 
limits  familiar  to  us,  because  the  conditions  pro- 
ducing family  co-operation  in  any  degree  are  like- 
wise carried  beyond  all  limits  familiar  to  us. 

The  very  rigour  of  nature's  restraints  in  Tibet  has 
required  a  more  flexible  marriage  scheme.  As  there 
is  no  such  thing  as  specific  morality  in  the  abstract, 
so  there  is,  in  the  discussion  of  this  system,  no  other 
reasonable  inquiry  than  this — Would  the  substitu- 
tion of  some  other  system,  as  ours  for  example,  be 
followed  by  greater  or  less  product  of  human  happi- 
ness— happiness  in  this  world?  That  deep-searching 
question  will  not  be  discussed  in  these  pages.  It 
is  sufficient  to  say  that  the  best  observers  have  re- 
ported no  special,  considerable  evil  as  traceable  to 
polyandry,  and  that,  in  general,  social  conditions 
are,  in  the  long  run,  adjusted,  for  the  best  good,  to 
the  controlling  physical  conditions  —  that  "best 
good"  never  resulting  in  an  extermination,  but 
only  an  alleviation  of  inherent  evil  in  our  lives. 
We,  the  strong,  should  be  therefore  slow  to  impose 
our  methods  upon  those  whose  relations  to  material 
nature  are  widely  different  from  our  own. 


156  Tibet  and  Turkestan 

The  feature  of  Tibetan  life  which  would  next  at- 
tract attention  by  its  relative  unfamiliarity  is  the 
great  development  of  monasticism.  M.  Grenard 
estimates  the  number  of  monks  at  five  hundred 
thousand  in  all  Tibet.  This  obviously  is  inaccur- 
ate, if,  as  further  supposed  by  several  observers, 
the  total  population  be  about  three  million.  Adult 
males  would  then  be  about  seven  hundred  thou- 
sand. Of  adult  males,  M.  Grenard  estimates  the 
monks  to  be  about  one-fourth;  but  he  neglects  to 
work  out  the  result  of  this  assumption,  which,  for  a 
total  population  of  three  million  gives  approximately 
one  hundred  and  seventy-five  thousand  monks  — 
widely  at  variance  with  the  first-given  figure.  The 
lower  total  thus  reached  is  far  more  probable.  The 
higher  figure  would,  inversely,  lead  to  a  total  popu- 
lation of  about  ten  million — obviously  too  great. 
Dismissing  any  attempt  at  accuracy  in  totals  (and 
apologising  to  M.  Grenard  for  seeing  a  single  bad 
grain  in  a  heaped-up  measure  of  soundest  wheat) 
we  remain  astonished  at  the  high  ratio  which  un- 
doubtedly holds  in  this  matter.  In  explanation  of 
it,  we  do  not  feel  satisfied  by  a  mere  reference  to  the 
well-known  ascetic  doctrines  of  Buddha.  Monas- 
ticism finds  in  those  teachings,  as  in  the  gospel 
of  Christ,  abundant  authority,  nay,  more,  a  very 
special  favour,  for  its  practices.  Yet  we  have  seen 
monasticism  pass  almost  entirely  from  the  Christian 
world — the  doctrine  meanwhile  unchanged  by  any 
subsequent  revelation.  And  Buddhism  has  not 
elsewhere  produced  such  a  full  crop  of  adherents 
(more  or  less  formal)  to  its  creed  of  abnegation. 
The  causes  which  filled  Europe  with  monks  in  the 


I 

rt 
CJ 


D 

H 


The  Tibetan  People  157 

Dark  Ages  may  fairly  be  taken  as  related  to  those 
that  now  crown  so  many  Tibetan  peaks  with  high- 
walled  monasteries.  The  contrast  between  the 
European  situation  during  the  centuries  when  mon- 
achism  flourished,  and  the  situation  now,  in  Europe 
and  America,  when  it  does  not  flourish,  may  give 
suggestion  as  to  what  are  the  special  conditions 
tending  to  develop  an  institution  which  is  no  longer 
prospering  in  our  world. 

The  most  general  and  striking  contrast  between 
the  old  and  the  new,  in  our  Western  civilisation,  is 
perhaps  this, — a  far  wider  present  extension  of  set- 
tled peace,  a  far  greater  development  of  physical 
comfort,  a  far  wider  field  for  the  fruitful  application 
of  a  man's  labour  to  the  piling  up  of  treasure  in  this 
world  where  moth  and  rust  do  corrupt.  It  seems 
universally  true  that  no  inhibition  in  accepted  creed 
can  effectively  work  to  keep  large  numbers  of  men 
from  the  pursuit  of  wealth,  if  that  pursuit  be  rea- 
sonably safe  and  reasonably  productive.  Vows  of 
poverty  are  taken  by  multitudes  only  when  it  is 
difficult  to  escape  poverty — willy  nilly.  Moreover, 
poverty  is  a  relative  term,  and  certainly  the  self- 
denial  to  which  monks  are  pledged  often  enough 
became  a  comfort  greater  than  that  enjoyed  by  the 
average  poor  peasant  in  the  brave  and  hungry  days 
of  old.  Communal  labour  added  its  store  to  the 
gifts  of  a  superstitious  people,  eager  to  buy  celestial 
favour  through  a  purchased  intercession  measured 
to  the  price.  Relative  also  is  obedience.  Not  more 
exacting  is  the  abbot,  bound  by  the  rule,  than  the 
temporal  lord  who  in  feudal  day  owned  the  homage 
of  his  followers  as  well  as  the  land  on  which  they 


158  Tibet  and  Turkestan 

lived.  And  as  for  the  third  vow — one  cannot 
strictly  say  that  chastity  also  is  relative,  yet  men 
know  the  dark  ways  of  compromise  that  have  been 
trod  by  those  who  failed  to  follow  either  the  steep 
heavenward  path  of  observance  or  the  flagrant  way 
of  open  breach. 

In  all  the  long  record — from  St.  Augustine's  pro- 
test against  the  upstart  ways  of  the  low-born  monks 
unused  to  respect,  down  to  the  recommendation  of 
a  Christian  Pope  in  1650  that  certain  monasteries  be 
closed,  their  revenues  to  go  to  the  Venetian  State 
for  the  making  of  bloody  war;  in  a  hundred  ways 
we  learn  that  the  cloister  was  at  once  a  chamber  of 
travail  and  of  triumph  for  a  few  pure  religious  souls, 
and,  for  grosser  minds,  a  comfortable  refuge  from 
the  rough  battle  of  life,  or  an  alcove  for  crime.  Its 
occupant  made  a  better  bargain  with  this  world 
than  many  a  poor  devil  outside,  caught  in  the 
meshes  of  a  society  marked  by  poverty  for  the 
mass,  privilege  for  the  class,  and  turbulence  for  all. 
Such  was  European  society  when  it  bred  many 
monks.  Such  is  Tibet  to-day,  save  that  the  tur- 
bulence perhaps  is  less  than  that  which  existed 
generally  in  Europe  during  monkish  days.  This 
probably  is  due  to  the  steady  pressure  from  with- 
out —  from  China  —  a  directing  force  which  has 
permitted  the  churchman  to  control  the  state,  thus 
making  his  career  more  than  usually  attractive, 
while  rendering  the  suzerain's  task  less  trying.  If 
the  country  were  a  fertile,  temperate  land,  even 
this  ecclesiastic  rule  might  not  be  bad  enough — 
economically  bad— to  prevent  an  accumulation  of 
wealth  among  the  people  and  a  subsequent  revival 


The  Tibetan  People  159 

of  lay  power.  But  here  nature  seems  to  have 
made  permanent  those  conditions  which  favour 
monastic  development.  Nor  can  it  be  doubted  that 
in  spite  of  some  moral  decay  (less,  it  would  seem, 
than  in  the  shameful  eras  of  European  orders)  there 
is  a  certain  civilising,  conserving  influence  exerted 
by  bodies  of  men  whose  theoretical  rule  of  life  is  one 
of  simplicity  and  chanty,  and  who  keep  alive  the 
flame  of  learning  among  rude  peoples.  True,  theirs 
is  the  puerile  learning  which  was  so  dear  to  the 
Christian  mind  for  centuries — so  satisfying  until  this 
world  began  to  be  made  agreeably  interesting. 
And  some  may  charge  the  monks  with  delaying 
progress  toward  that  betterment  of  physical  condi- 
tion which  will  alleviate  the  misery  and  eventually 
lessen  the  ignorance  of  the  people. 

In  an  existence  like  ours,  made  up  of  inextricably 
crossed  cause  and  effect,  we  can  see  but  a  few  se- 
quences at  a  time.  We  do  not  know  that  an  irrup- 
tion of  the  Gauls,  an  establishment  of  the  feudal 
system,  or  an  enraged  Reformation,  have  been  fol- 
lowed by  more,  or  less,  of  evil  than  would  have  re- 
sulted from  some  supposed  alternative  course.  We 
only  know  that  they  existed ;  that  we  may  discover, 
in  close  connection  with  them,  certain  elements  of 
pain,  certain  elements  of  pleasure;  and  that  we  are 
blindly  driven  on  to  do  and  to  undo.  We  may  be 
fairly  secure  in  this,  that  the  violent  destruction  of 
any  long-established  institution  by  a  force  exterior 
to  the  society  which  has  produced  such  institution, 
must  generally  be  immediately  followed  by  evil  in 
much  greater  proportion  than  good.  The  distant 
future,  perhaps,  will  balance  the  account ;  yet 


160  Tibet  and  Turkestan 

uncertainty  as  to  the  result  may  well  temper  an  ar- 
dour for  reform  which  often  gratifies  the  sensibilities 
of  the  reformer  at  the  expense  of  his  victim. 

We  (Christendom)  have  abolished  Suttee — while 
we  have  extended  the  opium  trade.  The  occasional 
immolation  of  a  widow  on  the  pyre  was  a  dramatic 
tragedy  which  offended  us,  while  the  commonplace 
stage-setting  of  the  hovelled  opium-infamy  spares 
our  nerves  and  thus  protects  itself.  So  it  may  be 
when  Tibetan  institutions  are  held  in  the  glaring 
light  of  European  examination ;  our  sympathies, 
which  are  but  the  furthest  scouts  of  selfishness, 
may  cry  an  alarm,  affrighted  by  evil  in  an  unfamil- 
iar form,  and  may  strike  at  it  hastily,  not  measur- 
ing its  true  magnitude  nor  making  survey  of  its 
relations. 

Imagine,  in  the  European  provinces  of  the  year 
1 200  A.D.,  organisations  whose  powers  should  be 
those  of  feudal  lord  and  prelate  combined ;  imagine 
buildings  which  should  be  castle  and  cathedral  in 
one.  Then  you  have,  in  part,  the  Tibetan  monks 
and  their  monasteries.  Add  to  this  imagination 
something  borrowed  from  the  great  overland  traders, 
lords  of  commerce,  and  you  may  then  understand 
the  importance,  in  Tibetan  society,  of  these  bodies 
of  men  who  combine  more  functions  than  any 
associations  with  which  we  are  familiar. 

With  the  complexity  of  function  has  come,  of 
course,  a  corresponding  complexity  of  organisation. 
First,  there  are  the  two  great  Orders— the  Yellows 
and  the  Reds — and  several  lesser  ones.  Each  has 
its  General,  supervising  all  the  establishments  of  his 
order.  Each  establishment  has  its  head  ;  its  officials 


The  Tibetan  People  161 

for  spiritual  and  temporal  duties;  its  candidates,  its 
novices,  its  full-fledged  monks  of  two  degrees.  Sub- 
ject to  the  temporal  rule  of  the  monastery — much 
as  in  our  feudal  times — are  the  farmers  of  a  certain 
territory  who  pay  their  rents  into  the  treasury  of  the 
establishment.  Nor  have  the  monks  been  able  to 
stop  their  development  within  the  lines  of  peaceful 
activity.  Rude  arms  hang  on  their  walls,  bows, 
arrows,  spears,  and  the  mediaeval  matchlock.  Not 
more  ready  to  be  hastened  toward  the  Nirvana  of 
their  creed  than  is  the  lusty  Christian  to  grasp  his 
promised  crown  of  personal  immortality,  these 
monks,  who  are  men,  have  given  blow  for  blow  in 
that  primitive  competition  which  still  holds  Europe's 
self  under  the  thrall  of  its  fierce  charm.  Territorial 
rights  within  the  land  have  been  delineated  thus  by 
force;  attack  from  without  has  been  met  by  bat- 
talions of  monks;  and  attempted  rebellion  of  the 
lay  chiefs  has  been  by  them  subdued.  Indeed,  by 
virtue  of  their  superior  intelligence  and  organisa- 
tion, a  long  era  of  quiet,  a  true  pax  ecclesiastica, 
seemed  to  be  stretching  mild  years  before  the 
country  when  the  storm  of  British  anger  fell  upon 
the  land. 

Special  privilege  in  Tibet  runs  not  only  in  favour 
of  the  powerful  religious  bodies  just  surveyed,  but  it 
also  upholds  a  lay  aristocracy  of  inherited  wealth — 
the  term,  of  course,  is  comparative,  for  Tibet  is  poor. 
The  important  lay  functionaries  of  government  are 
drawn  from  this  class.  And  indeed,  the  powerful 
monks  are  frequently  scions  of  the  noble  houses 
— younger  sons  who  find,  in  their  sacred  role,  a 
larger  power  than  can  now  be  otherwise  secured. 


1 62  Tibet  and  Turkestan 

The  lower  classes,  therefore,  have  but  little  oppor- 
tunity for  individual  advancement ;  more,  however, 
through  the  monastery  than  in  any  other  way. 
Pride  of  family  is  strong,  marriages  beneath  one's 
inherited  rank  are  rare.  As  in  all  lands,  the  posses- 
sion of  exceptional  wealth  may  put  a  young  man  or 
woman  into  a  class  above  that  of  one's  birth — but 
the  opportunities  for  fortune-making  are  very  few, 
for  reasons  already  outlined.  In  this  respect,  there- 
fore, Tibet  offers  less  hope  (or  fear?)  of  social  revo- 
lution than  might  have  been  held  in  Europe  even 
in  her  darkest  hours.  There,  Nature  invited,  or  did 
not  severely  punish,  the  timid  efforts  of  art  and 
commerce.  Here,  it  almost  prohibits. 

Besides  the  ownership  of  their  inherited  lands,  a 
noble  family  may  enjoy  the  control  of  certain  State 
lands,  given  instead  of  salary,  for  the  exercise  of 
administrative  function.  Whenever  this  system  of 
irregular  compensation  is  found,  we  may  confidently 
look  for  an  equally  irregular  administration  of  just- 
ice. Western  civilisation  is  now  outgrowing  this 
evil.  The  wide  corruption  in  American  legislative 
bodies  arises  from  a  neglect  of  the  sound  rule  of 
fair  and  stated  compensation  for  all  public  service. 

A  somewhat  intimate  knowledge  of  this  evil  has 
been  forced  upon  me  in  various  affairs,  and  I  do  not 
hesitate  to  affirm  that  many  American  municipalities 
are  conducted,  in  their  legislative  and  police  depart- 
ments, with  as  much  systematic  corruption  as  has 
been  reported  by  European  travellers  and  residents 
in  any  Asiatic  community.  Our  State  legislatures 
are  bad  also — not  quite  as  bad  as  the  municipal 
councils.  Our  city  judiciary  is  bad  occasionally, 


Friends  of  Ras  Worke,  Abyssinia. 

Photo  by  Mr.  J.  H.  Baird. 


The  Tibetan  People  163 

but  not  at  all  bad  in  comparison  with  the  legislative 
bodies.  Our  higher  judiciary  is  practically  pure. 
Our  national  legislature  contains  generally  about 
five  per  cent,  of  members  in  both  houses  who  will 
sell  their  votes  for  money,  but  probably  would  hesi- 
tate to  thus  be  brought  to  the  support  of  any  meas- 
ure believed  by  them  to  be  really  vicious.  Most 
frequently — and  this  is  measurably  true  of  all  the 
bodies  here  mentioned — the  bribe-takers  approve,  in 
their  unbiased  judgments  (if  they  can  be  said  to 
have  such)  of  those  measures  to  which  they  refuse 
a  vote  unless  purchased. 

The  five-per-cent.  ratio  of  corruption  for  the  Con- 
gress of  the  United  States  is  given  as  a  hearsay 
approximation  by  Mr.  Bryce  in  his  admirable  book 
The  American  Commonwealth.  I  had  it  in  mind  when 
circumstances  required  that  I  should  know  the  num- 
ber, names,  and  prices  of  "  approachable"  members. 
It  is  substantially  correct.  Now  note  the  relation  to 
our  comments  on  Tibetan  organisation.  Aldermen 
.are  practically  without  regular  pay  of  any  kind. 
The  government  of  a  city  is  turned  over  to  them 
and  they  take  their  pay  as  best  they  can.  The  State 
legislators  are  paid  a  little.  In  regions  where  living 
is  still  relatively  simple  and  inexpensive,  the  pay  is 
sometimes  adequate ;  the  corruption  is  less.  In  our 
national  legislature  the  pay  is  sufficient  to  the  sup- 
port in  comfort,  and  without  modern  luxury,  of  an 
ordinary  family.  The  corruption  is  still  less.  In 
our  higher  judiciary,  the  pay,  while  not  large,  is  suf- 
ficient for  comfort,  and  is,  in  many  cases,  assured  for 
longer  periods  than  those  fixing  the  legislative  terms. 
There  is  substantially  no  corruption.  In  city  police 


1 64  Tibet  and  Turkestan 

organisations  the  pay  is  generally  fair  and  con- 
stant. The  corruption  here  is  due  to  two  causes: 
example  of  the  aldermen,  and  extraordinary  power 
over  public  women,  saloon-keepers,  and  gamblers, 
due  to  our  crude  methods  of  dealing  with  the  three 
irrepressible  evils.  The  same  explanation  may  be 
given  as  to  the  occasional  lapses  of  our  police  ju- 
diciary, though  a  reasonably  high  pay  has  largely 
reduced  the  evils  in  this  direction.  It  may  thus 
broadly  be  seen  that  when  we  fail  to  give  a  stated, 
regular,  and  reasonable  compensation  for  public 
service,  we  find  bribery  taking  the  place  of  honour- 
able reward. 

We  must  recognise  that  we  cannot  be  governed 
without  paying,  on  the  average,  nearly  as  much  for 
the  talents  employed  as  would  be  gained  by  the 
same  talents  engaged  in  private  effort.  The  rule  is 
somewhat  obscured  by  the  value  put  upon  celebrity, 
more  easily  attained  in  public  than  in  private  service, 
and  the  varying  degree  of  security  in  employment, 
— sometimes  greater,  sometimes  less,  for  the  office- 
holder than  for  the  private  citizen.  These  ex- 
ceptions are  more  readily  understood  than  those 
supposed  to  be  offered  by  such  great  non-salaried 
legislative  bodies  as  the  English  Parliament.  The 
exception,  however,  is  much  more  in  appearance 
than  in  reality.  First,  the  hard  work  of  Parliament 
is  done  by  comparatively  few  among  the  more 
than  six  hundred  members,  and  most  of  these  few 
are  holders  of  salaried  offices ;  and,  second,  as  nearly 
all  members  of  the  House,  and  all  members  of  the 
Lords,  are  drawn  from  the  wealthy  class;  and  again, 
chiefly  from  the  class  of  inherited  wealth,  the  nation 


The  Tibetan  People  165 

is  paying  handsomely  enough  for  their  service  by 
permitting  large  patrimonies  to  descend  from  gen- 
eration to  generation,  thus  giving  to  the  inheritors 
a  very  substantial  support,  against  which  it  draws 
a  moderate  return  of  public  service.  Because  all 
inheritors  of  estates  do  not  make  such  return,  the 
implied  compact  is  somewhat  obscured  to  the  in- 
telligence of  some  observers.  The  true  principles 
stand  out  more  clearly  in  the  actual  relations  of 
the  royal  family,  and  the  theoretical  relations  of 
the  nobility,  toward  the  State.  In  so  far  as  the  in- 
heritance of  great  fortune,  without  public  service,  is 
continued,  there  begin  now  to  appear  adjustments 
which  express  the  public  conscience  on  the  subject. 
These  are  obvious  in  England.  They  were  loud  as 
the  thunder,  vivid  and  fatal  as  the  lightning,  about 
a  century  ago,  in  France. 

This  excursive  reflection  upon  the  lordly  states  of 
our  Western  world  may  seem  to  be  an  unwarranted 
going-away  from  our  text,  which  is  just  now  the 
poor  mountain  state  of  the  snow-world.  But  the 
comparison  is  meant  to  suggest  something  which  I 
consider  more  important  at  my  hands  than  the 
piling  up  of  detailed  description  of  Tibetan  custom. 
Other  travellers  have  had  much  larger  opportunity 
than  I  to  obtain  such  facts,  and,  in  all  their  mani- 
fold suggestiveness  to  various  special  students,  they 
have  been  admirably  set  forth  in  works  from  which, 
if  such  full  presentation  were  my  task,  I  should 
be  forced  to  bountifully  copy.  But  it  has  seemed 
to  me  a  better  use  of  my  small  experience  and  my 
reading  to  set  forth  only  the  larger  features  of 
Tibetan  life;  to  seek  that  which  is  common  to  us  all, 


1 66  Tibet  and  Turkestan 

under  various  manifestation,  and,  lastly,  chiefly,  to 
urge  that  inward  charity  of  thought,  and  that  out- 
ward charity  of  act  (soon  perhaps  to  follow),  which 
is  born  only  of  intelligent  sympathy. 

This  tendency  to  seek  the  good  that  is  cloaked  in 
evil  is  one  that  may  not  at  once  meet  the  approval 
of  Exeter  Hall  or  Faneuil  Hall,  though  ultimately 
their  reach  toward  honest  things  would  bring  us 
together.  Uncompromising  war  upon  an  obvious 
evil,  with  incidental  wholesale  condemnation  of  men 
who  have  inherited  an  offensive  institution, — such 
is  the  rough-and-ready  method,  which  has  a  merit 
that  I  shall  not  contest  and  cannot  attain. 

Polyandry,  polygamy,  monastic  power,  feudal  law, 
— all  these  appear  as  abuses  to  the  hasty  eye ;  and 
indeed  they  fall  within  the  universal  rule  of  good- 
and-bad,  the  bad  being  prominent  to  our  examina- 
tion. But  they  will  "yield  to  treatment,"  to  the 
treatment  of  physical  science  relieving  physical 
want.  Let  us  then  give,  nor  urge  even  this,  a 
knowledge  of  those  things  which  have  helped  us  in 
this  world  (as  we  think),  and  let  this  force  work 
its  fated  changes.  As  to  our  religion,  let  it  be 
offered  only  by  humble,  patient  men  who  shall  not 
damn  a  thousand  dear  traditions  as  deadly  sins. 
Perhaps  then  some  of  their  hearers  will  prefer 
to  utter  the  name  Christ,  rather  than  some  other 
sound,  in  addressing  the  Power  behind  the  Law 
and  the  Hope. 


CHAPTER   XIII 

RELIGION 

IN  Tibet  there  are  two  religious  bodies ;  the  Bud- 
dhists, whom  we  now  generally  call  Lamaists, 
and  the  Pon-bo.  These  two  have  a  common  basis 
in  the  ancient  worship  of  a  medley  of  gods,  repre- 
senting more  or  less  obviously  the  forces  of  nature. 
Connected  with  this  mythology  was  a  burdensome 
belief  in  magic.  Much  of  all  these  tyrannical  fears 
has  survived  even  in  Lamaism,  while  the  Pon-bo 
creed  of  to-day,  which  does  not  profess  Buddha  at 
all,  is  substantially  the  ancient  cult,  still  held  by 
those  whose  ancestors,  for  various  reasons,  failed  to 
"go  over  "  in  the  days  when  the  newly  imported  re- 
ligion was  covering  the  land.  The  lower,  grosser 
elements  of  Lamaism  are  substantially  repeated 
among  the  Pon-bo ;  or  rather  we  may  say  that  the 
vulgar  Lamaist  has  the  Pon-bo  creed  plus  some 
vague  notion  of  Gautama's  high  abstractions. 

The  relation  between  the  two  bodies  is  similar  to 
that  which  might  have  been  seen  in  Europe  as  late 
as  the  sixth  century  A.D.,  when  there  still  existed 
communities  professing  the  ancient  paganism,  while 
enthroned  Christianity  had  not  been  able  to  free 
itself  from  a  heritage  of  magic,  witch  and  devil  cult, 
and  had  shifted  the  worship  of  the  Finite  from  demi- 
gods to  saints.  But  then  in  Europe,  as  now  in  Tibet 

167 


1 68  Tibet  and  Turkestan 

there  were  some  (a  few)  who  drank  such  pure  water 
as  the  higher  creed  may  offer  to  the  most  enlight- 
ened, thirsting  soul.  A  personal,  anthropomorphic 
God,  an  individual,  personal,  corporeal  immortality, 
a  half-militant  faith  in  certain  personal  relations  of 
the  Teacher — these  are  keystones  in  the  arch  of 
Christian  belief — not  to  be  displaced  by  the  most 
generalising  mind  that  would  still  call  itself  faithful. 
And  most  helpful  are  they  to  the  spirit  of  lower 
flight,  just  rising  from  the  earth,  building  its  resting- 
place  with  familiar  concrete  material. 

Even  the  frightful  vision  of  hell  which,  wonder- 
fully enough,  was  not  expelled  from  the  compas- 
sionate dreams  of  Christ,  would  stimulate  rather 
than  destroy  the  faith  of  those  who,  in  gusty  bar- 
barism, had  sought  the  extremes  of  punishment 
for  their  enemies,  and  had  imagined  their  dead  as 
still  on  horseback,  still  fighting  some  undying  foe. 
Gratified  with  the  hope  of  a  happy  resurrection  of 
the  body  for  himself,  the  zealous  saint  felt  urged  by 
childish  reason,  as  well  as  by  inspiration,  to  con- 
struct for  the  unfaithful  sinner  an  eternal  bodily 
punishment,  equal  in  its  kind  with  the  felicity 
promised  to  himself.  Surely  these  are  easier  steeps 
to  climb,  for  untutored  minds,  than  the  ascent  to 
Buddha's  heights.  Here,  there  is  no  God,  only  an 
unnamed,  infinite,  hence  undefined,  principle  of 
creation.  The  universe  is  bound  in  absolute  law. 
Separate  existence  is  bound  up,  under  the  invaria- 
ble law,  with  desire,  and  desire  with  evil ;  death  is  a 
portal,  opening,  first,  to  another  life,  whose  evil  will 
be  proportioned  to  the  desire  that  has  raged  in  this ; 
through  successive  deaths  life  is  led  to  Nirvana, 


e 

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Religion  169 

extinction  of  personal  identity,  the  sole  reward  to 
those  who  have  wholly  conquered  desire  in  the 
struggle  of  human  existence.  Our  sins  shall  punish 
another  entity  than  that  which  is  the  present  ego ; 
our  virtues  shall  ultimately  help  the  separated  drop 
to  sink  again  into  the  untroubled  ocean,  not  to 
sparkle  for  ever  in  some  iridescent  beam  of  personal 
happiness.  Nor  can  this  return  of  the  troubled  part 
to  everlasting  peace  in  the  undivided  whole  be  ac- 
complished here  in  our  life,  save  by  an  ascetic  course 
which  lies  far  beyond  the  power  of  the  usual  man. 
He,  however,  by  strict  virtue  in  the  common  life,  as 
father,  brother,  husband,  neighbour,  may  happily 
reflect  that  the  Kharma  of  his  life,  the  resultant 
moral  force  of  it,  shall  permit  some  other  man,  later 
born,  to  start  his  course  nearer  to  the  goal,  which 
ever  is  extinction  of  desire  and  of  separated  self. 
Truly  this  is  too  hard  for  rough  mountain  barbarians. 

Even  the  corrupted  doctrines  which  came  to  the 
Tibetans  a  thousand  years  after  Gautama  died  have 
by  them  been  yet  further  corrupted.  A  vast  sys- 
tem of  Aberglaube  (extra  belief  of  Matthew  Arnold) 
has  overgrown  the  Buddha's  original  impersonal 
generalisations.  Moral  qualities  have  grown  into 
gods.  ' '  Emanations' '  have  become  persons. 

Myths  of  virgin  birth,  giving  sanctity  to  Gautama's 
mother;  of  infantile  wisdom  and  heavenly  prodigies 
leading  to  worship  of  the  babe  by  wise  men;  of 
superhuman  strength  in  human  contest  with  spear 
and  bow,  — all  these  had  been  added  to  the  Buddhist 
arsenal  of  argument  before  the  Great  Vehicle  was 
taken  up  to  Tibet  from  Northern  India.  Doubtless 
they  were  of  great  avail  in  making  converts.  Weaker 


1 70  Tibet  and  Turkestan 

minds  found  support  in  all  these  grosser  imagin- 
ings, the  work  of  all  the  early  minds  of  like  weakness 
who  had  vainly  tried  to  grasp  the  abstract,  and  had 
unconsciously  built  rude  scaffolding  in  the  trees 
when  their  wings  refused  to  bear  them  toward  the 
sun. 

Yet  in  spite  of  these  deformations,  the  doctrine 
retained  something  of  beauty.  It  seems  particularly 
to  have  put  a  higher  value  upon  human  life,  and 
what  we  consider  a  grotesque  value  upon  life  in 
general.  It  stopped  human  sacrifice  and  softened 
men's  hearts  and  manners  by  its  insistence  upon 
universal  charity.  Much — very  much — remains  to 
be  done  in  this,  the  master  work  of  Christian  and 
of  Buddhist  doctrine,  but  surely  a  beginning  was 
made  among  the  wild  people  of  the  snows.  The 
troublesome  element  in  the  establishment  of  the 
new  faith  seems  to  have  been  the  monkish  organisa- 
tion. It  at  once  became  a  rival  in  power-lust  with 
the  lay  chiefs.  Nothing  shows  more  clearly  than 
this  the  great  departure  which  had  been  made  from 
the  original  teaching.  Buddha,  even  less  than 
Christ,  had  imagined  his  followers  as  a  sort  of  mili- 
tant body  animated  by  the  demon  of  ambition. 

There  is  nothing  in  Buddha's  speech  of  the  deep 
partisan  spirit  ringing  in  the  words,  "If  ye  are  not 
for  me  ye  are  against  me,"  and  again,  "I  come  to 
bring  a  sword."  But  he  had  told  his  followers  to 
preach  his  doctrine.  To  this  end,  they  had  organ- 
ised. Organisation  carries  with  it  the  seed  of  con- 
test, and  we  are  at  once  led  to  Darwinian  phrase, 
while  making  the  double  struggle,  to  know  what  is 
"fittest,"  and  how  to  use  it,  for  survival  against 


Religion  17 l 

our  competitor.  It  seems  not  improbable  that  the 
persecutions  which  drove  Buddhism  from  India,  its 
birth-place,  where  it  had  greatly  flourished  for  cent- 
uries, were  due  to  excesses  of  the  monastic  orders. 
The  people  were  unable  to  see  the  Enlightened  One 
through  the  dark  cloud  of  his  nominal  followers ;  no 
reformer  arose  to  correct  the  abuses  from  within, 
and  away  they  were  swept,  abuses  and  monasteries 
and  all,  and  have  never  yet  reappeared  in  India. 
Ceylon,  Burmah,  Siam,  Tibet,  China,  and  Japan 
(after  a  fashion),  these  are  the  lands  where  Gautama 
is  now  worshipped. 

The  early  persecution  of  the  monks  by  a  Tibetan 
king  suggests  that  their  organisations  were  full  of 
the  spirit  which  caused  their  destruction  in  India, 
but  has  eventually  caused  their  triumph  in  Tibet. 
Here  they  proved  the  stronger,  partly  because  the 
people  were  more  ignorant,  more  superstitious  in 
their  bleak  mountain  homes,  and  partly  because  of 
the  external  pressure  already  mentioned.  When  the 
purification  due  to  persecution  had  again  changed 
to  decay,  another  effort,  this  by  reformation,  took 
place  in  the  fourteenth  century.  There  arose  one 
who,  himself  a  lama,  cried  out  against  the  abuses  of 
the  lamas  in  their  private  lives  and  in  their  relations 
with  the  people.  Tsongkapa's  work  has  been  com- 
pared by  Catholics  to  Hildebrand's,  by  Protestants 
to  Luther's.  There  is  indeed  a  similarity  but  also 
a  marked  distinction  between  the  Tibetan  and  the 
German  reformer. 

Lamaism  had  not  developed  a  power  as  concen- 
trated as  that  of  Rome.  It  was  not  necessary  to 
break  from  an  all-including  organisation,  nor  did 


172  Tibet  and  Turkestan 

Tsongkapa  present  new  theories  of  control.  If 
Luther,  while  insisting  upon  better  morals  among 
churchmen,  had,  for  furthering  that  end,  set  up  a 
northern  Papacy,  he  would  have  more  nearly  dupli- 
cated the  work  of  his  predecessor,  dead  a  century 
before  the  beginning  of  the  great  struggle  between 
mighty  pope  and  simple  priest.  Tsongkapa  lived  to 
see  great  monasteries  under  his  rule,  to  hear  his 
yellow-hooded  monks  acclaimed  by  the  people,  who 
turned  their  backs  upon  the  older  unreformed  Red- 
hoods.  The  order  which  he  thus  founded — or,  more 
strictly,  rejuvenated, — became  so  powerful  that  ere 
long  its  head  was  called  the  Dalai  Lama,  the  great 
Lama.1  This  great  Abbot  was  soon  recognised, 
together  with  another  Incarnation,  the  Pantchen 
Lama,  as  forming  a  sort  of  sovereign  partnership 
over  the  whole  country.  And  now  the  horn  of  the 
Dalai  Lama  has  been  exalted,  it  is  higher  than 
that  of  his  brother  or  rival.  He  is  called  Glorious 
King,  while  the  other  is  Glorious  Teacher,  and  he 
has  great  temporal  power  added  to  his  religious 
function. 

When  one  of  these  two  has  died,  the  other  seeks 
his  successor;  three  children  are  chosen,  signs  of 
special  virtue  in  these  three  being  discernible  by  the 

1  Father  Hendricks  declares  the  true  etymology  would  establish 
Dalai  as  meaning  Ocean  as  well  as  great,  and  that  this  name  was 
given  to  the  abbot  who  was  supposed  to  descend,  in  office,  from  the 
Christian  priests  sent  in  by  Genghiz  Khan,  a  priest  from  afar,  from 
the  ocean.  Failing  foreign  successors,  he  who  administered  the 
ritual  of  the  Ocean  Lama  was  called  by  that  name.  The  similarity 
of  rites  and  organisation  between  Rome  and  Lhasa  is  believed  by 
Father  Hendricks  to  be  due  to  such  early  mission  work.  But 
Buddhist  ceremonial  was  developed  before  that  of  Rome. 


Religion  173 

initiated ;  their  names  are  put  in  a  golden  urn,  and, 
in  the  presence  of  many  abbots  and  of  the  Chinese 
legate,  a  heaven-directed  lottery  takes  place:  the 
first-drawn  name  is  believed  to  be  that  of  the  child 
who  has  received  the  Kharma  of  the  dead.  These 
incarnations  are  called  Bodisats,  a  series  of  individ- 
uals ancestrally  related  to  each  other  in  so  far  as 
Kharma  (general  moral  influence  left  by  a  life)  can 
be  said  to  constitute  ancestry.  They  are  in  a  series 
which  will  inevitably  end  in  the  production  of  a  true 
Buddha,  an  Enlightened  One,  receiving  that  fulness 
of  wisdom  which  came  to  Gautama  meditating  under 
the  Bo  tree.  And  this  wisdom  shall  again  declare  the 
ways  of  salvation  to  a  world  which  shall  have  for- 
gotten the  messages  already  heard.  The  dreamers 
of  the  faith  have  imagined  Bodisats  celestial  and  ter- 
restrial ;  they  are  here  and  there  in  various  stages  of 
development;  and  the  theory  of  them  provides  an 
inexhaustible  source  of  saint-making,  yields  an  an- 
gelic hierarchy  and  multiplies  the  objects  of  adora- 
tion. The  similarity  between  this  evolution  and 
that  of  angel-and-saint  cult  in  Christian  history 
must  strike  the  most  careless  observer.  The  com- 
mon effects  suggest  a  common  source,  which  cannot 
well  be  an  exclusive  revelation. 

The  selection  of  a  babe  as  spiritual  head  con- 
stitutes a  most  important  point  of  departure  from 
the  Roman  system,  and  marks  the  Tibetan  method 
as  distinctly  the  inferior  in  respect  to  obtaining 
meritorious  chiefs.  The  way  is  left  wide  open  for 
cabal  and  chicanery,  such  as  existed  for  a  time  in 
the  Roman  Church,  permitting  children  (a  Benedict 
IV.,  and  even  a  maid,  't  is  said),  to  be  named  as 


174  Tibet  and  Turkestan 

the  Vicar  of  Christ.  There  is  no  contrariety  in 
this  choice  of  children,  to  the  requirements  of  in- 
spired pronouncements  on  doctrine  alone;  or  to  the 
conditions  involved  in  the  mere  existence  of  a 
passive,  meditating  soul,  forgetful  of  the  world,  as 
in  the  abstract  of  the  Tibetan  creed.  But  masses  of 
men  never  get  far  away  from  the  interests  of  this 
world,  save  by  the  wide  door  of  death ;  hence  upon 
both  systems  has  been  grafted  the  branch  of  tem- 
poral power  and  church  administration,  which 
requires  a  stout  trunk  of  personal  intelligence, 
sobriety,  honour,  and  mature  judgment  in  the  chief. 
The  choice  in  Rome  is  now  largely  determined  by 
the  known  record  of  abilities  displayed  on  a  large 
stage  of  action.  As  the  Tibetan  system  makes 
this  impossible,  the  appearance  of  intelligence  and 
strength  in  the  pontifical  chairs  is  merely  chanceful. 
Power,  therefore,  is  generally  left  to  the  ring  of 
monks  who  correspond  roughly  to  the  College  of 
Cardinals  at  Rome.  The  present  Dalai  Lama  marks 
an  exception  to  the  rule  of  incompetence  in  the 
Sacred  Head. 

Between  the  two  great  incarnations  and  their  re- 
spective orders  there  seems  to  have  been  a  creditable 
peace  for  longer  periods  than  would  thus  have  been 
measured,  I  think,  had  not  the  Chinese  power  been 
strong  to  check,  encourage,  balance,  as  the  interest 
of  the  State  and  that  of  the  suzerain  required. 

Ffee  as  was  the  earliest  Buddhist  teaching  from 
the  almost  universal  beliefs  in  magic,  witches,  and 
devils,  these  had  already  gained  control  of  the  minds 
of  all  who  professed  the  Great  Vehicle  when  it  came 
to  Tibet, — of  all  save  the  occasional  few  who,  in 


o 
O 
a 
"o 

OH 


O 


Religion  175 

every  age,  in  every  religion,  have  had  clearer,  higher 
vision.  There  was,  therefore,  no  generally  recog- 
nised principle  in  the  new  faith  which  could  ever 
make  war  upon  the  gross  fetichism  of  the  ignorant 
tribes  who  were  so  far  from  all  the  world's  centres  of 
thought.  Yet  even  a  closer  touch  at  that  time  would 
not  have  done  much  to  expurgate  from  their  minds 
those  childish  and  dreadful  fancies  which  civilisation 
has  not  yet  entirely  driven  from  Paris  or  New  York. 
While  palmists,  clairvoyants,  and  sellers  of  images 
may  flourish  in  our  capitals ;  while  Friday  bears  a 
shady  reputation,  and  dinners  of  thirteen  are  much 
less  frequent  than  those  of  eleven  and  of  fifteen,  just 
so  long  may  we  feel  sure  that  on  the  far  Tibetan 
plateau  we  have  found  a  long-lost  brother  with 
whom,  hand  in  hand,  we  wend  a  painful  way  across 
the  glooms  of  time. 

"And  yet  dark  night  strangles  the  travelling  lamp. 
Is  't  night's  predominance  or  the  day's  shame, 
That  darkness  does  the  face  of  earth  entomb, 
When  living  light  should  kiss  it?  " 

We,  however,  seem  to  be  in  the  thinning  edge  of 
the  black,  witch-haunted  forest,  while  our  Tibetan 
brother  is  still  in  its  darkest  centre.  Let  us  learn, 
by  translation  from  M.  Grenard's  vivid  pages,  what 
we  were,  what  the  Tibetans  are,  by  virtue  of  de- 
veloping such  ideas  as  those  that  damn  the  day 
Friday  and  the  number  thirteen. 

"Of  Buddha,  who  established  as  principle  the  abnega- 
tion of  worldly  vanities,  who  set  forth  as  aim  the  annihila- 


176  Tibet  and  Turkestan 

tion  of  self,  they  ask  riches,  health,  and  the  satisfaction 
of  covetousness  and  pride,  they  constrain  him  by  the 
most  solemn  of  all  ceremonies  to  produce  the  elixir  of 
longevity.  Prayers  are  said  for  the  dead,  as  if  the  de- 
parted could  escape  the  fatal  consequences  of  their  acts. 
If  Buddha  is  not  to  be  moved,  they  address  prayers  to 
one  of  the  innumerable  gods  who  surround  him,  each  of 
whom  has  his  particular  role,  his  special  power,  a  shape 
peculiar  to  him,  horrible  or  agreeable,  his  personal  char- 
acter, peevish  or  kind,  courteous  chamberlains,  gracious 
ladies-in-waiting,  generals,  savage  defenders  of  the  faith, 
fearful  duennas,  not  to  speak  of  the  devilish  beasts  which 
prowl  in  the  neighbourhood,  seeking  something  to  de- 
vour. The  supernatural  world  is  a  court  where  good 
and  bad  places  are  distributed  for  the  life  to  come,  as 
well  as  spiritual  graces  and  temporal  goods,  calamities 
and  misfortunes.  To  obtain  the  one,  and  to  escape  the 
others,  the  Tibetans  exhaust  themselves  in  attempts,  in 
petitions,  in  intrigues,  and  in  gifts.  They  build  thou- 
sands of  temples,  make  thousands  of  statues,  burn 
myriads  of  sticks  of  incense,  prostrate  themselves,  chant 
hymns,  murmur  endless  prayers,  grind  still  greater  num- 
bers of  them  in  water-  or  hand-mills,  recite  the  rosary, 
celebrate  solemn  services,  make  offerings  and  give  ban- 
quets to  all  the  gods  and  devils,  wear  amulets  and  relics, 
write  talismans,  and  fly  streamers  covered  with  prayers 
or  emblems  of  good-luck,  which  the  breeze  scatters  to 
the  four  winds,  accumulate  countless  heaps  of  stones 
covered  with  pious  inscriptions,  turn  around  all  the 
objects  which  they  consider  sacred,  mountains,  lakes, 
temples,  stone  piles,  make  processions  and  pilgrimages, 
swallow  indulgences  in  the  shape  of  pills,  which  the 
lamas  have  compounded  with  relics,  imbibe  with  contri- 
tion the  heavenly  nectar  composed  of  the  ten  impurities, 
such  as  human  flesh,  the  excrements,  and  urine,  practice 


"Religion  17? 

exorcism,  necromancy,  and  magic,  even  to  obtain  spiritual 
blessings,  enact  pious  mysteries,  perform  strange  and 
furious  dances  to  drive  away  or  destroy  the  demon;  and 
thus  is  Tibet  wildly  caught  up  and  carried  off  by  the 
whirlwind  of  religious  insanity." 

It  is  not  intended  here  to  treat  at  length  of  the 
language  and  literature  of  Tibet.  Several  specialists 
— such  as  Csoma  de  Koros,  Ed.  Foucaux,  A.  A. 
Georgi,  H.  A.  Jaeschke,  and  W.  W.  Rockhill — may 
be  consulted  by  those  who  desire  to  study  these 
subjects. 

Very  briefly  it  may  be  stated  that  the  Tibetan 
dialects  are  said  to  be  of  the  Tibeto-Burman  family, 
which,  in  turn,  is  referred  to  the  Turano-Scythian 
stock. 

Changes  of  pronunciation  that  have  taken  place 
in  the  last  twelve  hundred  years  have  not  been 
followed  by  corresponding  changes  in  the  original 
written  forms  of  words.  Tibetan  orthography,  there- 
fore, as  tested  by  present  usage  of  spoken  words,  is 
perhaps  farther  removed  from  a  true  phonetic  sys- 
tem than  is  the  orthography  of  any  other  language 
pretending  to  represent  sounds  by  letters. 

Tibetan  literature  consists  almost  exclusively  of 
sacred  writings  and  historical  records.  Their  char- 
acter may  be  given  approximately  by  the  one  word 
' '  monkish. "  It  is  the  literature  of  our  own  dark  ages. 

In  Appendix  C  are  to  be  found  some  examples  of 
Tibetan  songs,  as  gathered  from  the  lips  of  the 
people  by  Moravian  missionaries.  Many  readers, 
I  think,  will  be  surprised  at  the  gracefulness  of 
thought  appearing  in  these  compositions. 


CHAPTER  XIV 

INDUSTRY    AND    ART — TIBETAN    ARCHITECTS — 
CARAVAN    VS.    RAILWAY 

AMONG  the  notable  achievements  of  our  mount- 
ain fplk  must  be  accounted  their  progress  as 
builders.  /Such  structures  as  the  great  monasteries 
and  the  kingly  residences  would  be  remarked  in  any 
country,  at  least  for  their  magnitude.  In  China 
are  pagodas  high  enough,  in  India  are  magnificent 
mosques,  of  one  clear  spring  from  floor  to  dome- 
top  ;  but  neither  in  China  nor  in  India  are  to  be  seen 
such  many-storied,  myriad-roomed  buildings  as  in 
Tibet.  Yet  from  China  and  from  India  have  come 
the  seeds  of  all  development  beyond  the  tent  and 
the  hut.  Special  influences  have  caused  the  extra- 
ordinary growth  of  the  building  art  among  a  people 
whose  souls  are  not  mechanical./ Analysis  of  such 
a  result,  in  the  absence  of  full  historical  data,  is 
hazardous,  hence  somewhat  tempting. 
/Three  conditions  have  seemed  4o  me  chiefly  re- 
sponsible for  a  superiority,  which,  in  comparing  all 
other  characteristics  with  those  of  their  neighbours, 
may  be  considered  as  almost  an  eccentricity  of  the 
Tibetans:  An  abundance  of  stone,  steep  roughness 
of  building  sites,  and  the  communal  life  of  the 
monks, — these  three  conditions  conspire  to  produce 
the  sky-scraping  masses,  in  which  are  hived  the 

178 


Industry  and  Art 


179 


pious  bees  who  sip  every  flower  that  blooms  in 
Tibet.  In  a  land  so  sterile  and  so  cold,  architecture 
is  saved  from  rioting  into  an  over-florid  style  and  is 
even  stunted  in  its  outreachings  toward  grace,  but 
it  attains  unto  dignity.  As  in  every  similar  case  of 
a  single  inspiration  operating  within  almost  unvary- 
ing environment,  there  results  great  uniformity, 
such,  indeed,  that  the  monasteries  of  Ladak  and 
those  around  Sining  in  the  Far  East  might  change 
places  over  night  without  discovery./ It  is  highly 
suggestive  as  to  the  future  possible  development  of 
the  Tibetan  people  that,  given  a  powerful  impulse 
in  a  given  direction,  they  have  shown  engineering 
capacity  of  so  high  an  order  as  that  involved  in  the 
erection  of  these  great  structures.  That  they  have 
often  chosen  the  most  inaccessible  among  many 
difficult  sites  may  be  due  chiefly  to  the  same  mili- 
tary consideration  which  determined  the  uncomfort- 
able and  picturesque  locations  of  so  many  European 
piles  built  in  the  brave  days  of  old.  It  is  pleasing 
to  think,  also,  that  the  artistic  fitness  of  the  thing 
— isolation  of  dwelling,  and  withdrawal  from  the 
world's  illusions — may  have  partly  ruled  the  build- 
ers' minds. 

Shall  we  also  charitably  assume  that  the  theoreti- 
cal unworldliness  of  the  ruling  class  may  account  for 
the  neglect  of  ways  of  communication?  One  who 
has  been  tried  by  these  roads  is  quick  to  wrath,  yet 
I  have  seen  as  bad  in  Abyssinia  as  in  Ladak.  And 
every  traveller  in  China  bewails  the  strange  lack  of 
public  spirit  which  bequeaths  to  each  generation  the 
ruts  and  bumps  of  its  predecessor.  Even  America, 
inspired  with  mechanical  cult,  sins  greatly  in  this 


i8o  Tibet  and  Turkestan 

respect.  Wheeled  vehicles  would  demand  a  vast 
expenditure — probably  an  impossible  sum — for  so 
poor  a  country  as  Tibet,  having  such  long  lines, 
such  rough  conditions.  Until  the  wagon  road  is 
justified,  pack-trails  remain  everywhere  just  good 
enough  to  permit  passage,  and  are  an  abiding  marvel 
to  European  travellers. 

Several  continuous  tracks  may  be  followed  from 
Lhasa  to  China ;  the  route  followed  by  the  English 
expedition  from  Darjeeling  is  the  shortest  line  con- 
necting Lhasa  with  the  civilised  world;  a  long, 
difficult  line  leads  to  the  far  west  of  Tibet  and  to 
Ladak,  now  belonging  to  Kashmir;  branching  to 
the  south  from  this  east-and-west  trail  are  several 
possible  routes  leading  into  Nepal.  To  the  north 
there  are  no  recognised  lines  save  well  to  the  east, 
going  up  to  the  Kokonor  region,  and,  farther  west, 
a  pilgrim  route  for  Mongolians  coming  to  their  Holy 
City.  The  main  streams  of  commerce  flow  to  and 
fro  'twixt  China  and  Tibet. 

The  burly  yak  demands  as  little  in  the  way  of 
footing  and  of  food  as  any  self-respecting  beast 
could  ask,  yet  even  he  must  pant  and  strain  and  die 
in  the  hard  scramble  over  glacier  and  stone  that 
mark  the  long  leagues  to  China.  Slower  than  the 
horse,  the  yak  is  also  surer-footed  and  less  easily 
frozen  to  death.  He  makes  up  into  an  irregular 
jumbled  caravan,  never  learning  the  strict  discipline 
of  single-file  march,  which  ponies  are  taught  to  pre- 
fer, and  which  camels  seem  to  have  learned  in  an 
earlier  incarnation.  It  is  this  impassive,  dignified 
brute,  the  camel,  who  has  so  powerfully  affected 
the  imaginations  and  thus  falsified  the  calculations 


Industry  and  Art  181 

of  European  travellers  in  their  estimates  of  Oriental 
wealth. 

When  Europe  was  poor,  Asia  was  relatively  rich, 
but  never  as  rich  as  the  camel  would  have  one  be- 
lieve. When  you  see  even  a  hundred  of  him  mark- 
ing the  distant  plain  with  immutable  pace  you  would 
swear  him  to  be  some  gnome  in  Pluto's  service, 
bearing  half  a  world's  wealth.  But  the  simplest 
arithmetic  shows  that  the  whole  caravan  load  is  less 
in  weight  than  that  of  one  big  American  freight  car. 
So  it  is  that  only  the  most  precious  commodities 
can  be  interchanged  even  at  the  astonishingly  low 
per-diem  rates  of  hire  for  man,  and  the  equally 
low  rate  of  food-consumption  exacted  by  the  self-re- 
straining brute.  Thus  let  us  pursue  the  calculation 
on  the  basis  of  forty  cents  per  day  per  camel,  paid 
by  us  to  the  Kirghiz  in  Western  Tibet.  Each  burden 
was  about  four  hundred  pounds,  and  the  day's 
march  averaged  about  fifteen  miles;  that  makes  the 
cost  per  ton-mile  about  thirteen  cents.  On  the 
great  railways  of  America  the  corresponding  figure 
is  0.65  cents,  or  one  twentieth  as  great.  Such  com- 
parisons have  led  to  the  dreaming  of  fabulous  profits 
by  the  over-zealous  promoters  of  steam  railways 
in  caravan  lands,  the  infirmity  of  their  calculations 
arising  from  an  over-estimate  of  the  total  amount 
of  merchandise  to  be  handled. 

The  dominating  feature  of  Tibetan  traffic  is  tea, 
imported  from  China,  chiefly  through  the  mart  of 
Ta-chien-lu,  where  caravans  sent  from  Lhasa  and 
even  from  Shegatze  are  loaded  annually  with  thir- 
teen millions  of  pounds  of  the  heaven-sent  leaf. 
Coming  out  of  Tibet,  their  loads  have  been  lighter 


1 82  Tibet  and  Turkestan 

— wool,  hides,  musk,  amber,  saffron,  and  some  gold- 
dust  from  the  various  small  placer-works  of  the 
Himalayan  slopes. 

Compared  with  this  tea-trade,  all  other  commer- 
cial movements  in  Tibet  are  insignificant. 

A  few  European  trinkets  and  some  cotton  goods, 
a  small  quantity  of  amber,  and,  lately,  a  fair  volume 
of  rupees  are  brought  in  exchange  for  the  wool  and 
gold-dust  and  Chinese  tea  which  go  into  Nepal  or 
Sikkim,  and  a  little  to  Ladak.  If  we  consider  the 
tea-trade  alone  at  Ta-chien-lu,  its  value  there,  in- 
creased by,  say,  twenty  per  cent.,  will  cover  the  total 
foreign  trade  of  the  country.  Considered  as  weight 
of  merchandise  to  be  transported,  it  will  exceed  that 
of  all  outgoing  and  all  other  incoming  goods.  In 
the  Ta-chien-lu  market,  M.  Grenard,  whose  figures 
are  the  latest  reliably  reported,  found  common 
varieties  worth  about  seven  cents  per  pound  (8.5 
pence  per  kilo),  while  high  grades  sold  at  about 
twenty  cents  per  pound.  It  is  probable  that  there 
is  much  more  of  the  former  than  of  the  latter.  We 
may  take  ten  cents  per  pound  as  an  approximate 
average.  Hence  it  would  appear  that  the  Tibetans 
pay  $1,300,000  for  that  staple,  which  means  more 
to  them  than  does  any  other  food,  except  bread,  to 
any  civilised  people.  Increasing  this  by  twenty  per 
cent,  we  find  $1,560,000  as  the  approximate  total  of 
their  present  purchasing  power. 

The  average  price  of  tea  in  Lhasa  (Grenard) 
seems  to  be  about  twenty-five  cents  per  pound,  cost 
of  transport  and  profit  having  added  one  hundred 
and  fifty  per  cent,  of  the  value  at  Ta-chien-lu.  If 
we  assume  ten  cents  per  pound  for  transport  and 


Industry  and  Art  183 

five  cents  for  profit  we  shall  fall  measurably  near 
the  figure  above  given  for  caravan  charges  (thirteen 
pence  per  ton-mile)  and  measurably  near  the  figure 
for  profit  which  would  be  enforceable  as  against 
frauds  on  the  custom  house  and  the  recognised 
monopolies.  The  figure  thus  given  for  annual  trans- 
port charges,  say  $1,500,000  (or,  say,  £300,000),  is 
one  that  appeals  somewhat  to  our  cupidity.  But 
let  us  study  it  further,  first  remarking  that  the  city 
of  Washington,  with  three  hundred  thousand  in- 
habitants (about  one-tenth  the  population  of  Tibet), 
pays  twice  as  much  annually  for  its  tramway  fares, 
i.  e.,  twice  as  much  as  Tibet  pays  for  substantially 
all  of  its  "long-haul"  freight  service.  The  thirteen 
million  pounds  of  tea  may,  with  other  imports,  sup- 
posing all  to  be  concentrated  at  one  point,  be  in- 
creased to  a  total  of  say  sixteen  million  pounds  of 
incoming  merchandise.  Taking  a  sixty-car  train  of 
modern  American  freight  cars,  we  see  that  six  trains 
per  year  would  haul  the  entire  imported  load  of  the 
country,  and  these  trains,  outgoing,  would  not  be 
more  than  half-filled. 

The  length  of  line  over  which  this  sixteen  million 
pounds  must  be  carried  is  something  like  twelve 
hundred  miles.  The  idea  of  building  a  railway  of 
such  length  in  such  country  is,  indeed,  fantastic; 
but,  merely  to  pursue  the  matter  to  its  limits  from 
our  usual  point  of  view,  let  us  calculate  such  con- 
struction at  the  low  figure  of  sixty  thousand  dollars 
per  mile,  then  the  interest  charge  at  five  per  cent, 
on  seventy-two  million  dollars  is  more  than  double 
the  amount  now  paid  for  freight  transportation,  even 
though  the  rate  be  twenty  times  that  familiar  in 


184  Tibet  and  Turkestan 

Western  countries.  The  substitution  of  the  shorter 
line  of  caravan  travel  via  the  Chumbi  valley  to  Dar- 
jeeling  would  diminish  the  national  expenditure  for 
transportation  by  a  considerable  amount — probably 
would  cut  it  in  half.  But,  short  as  that  line  is,  its 
profile  is  such  as  to  make  railway  construction  and 
permanent  railway  operation  fall  beyond  the  bounds 
of  practicability.  Invention  must  make  some  other 
great  conquest  of  nature's  secrets  ere  the  Himalayas 
be  scaled  by  other  transport  than  the  crawling 
caravan. 

Let  us  not  fancy,  then,  that  we  shall  be  able  to 
bless  the  Tibetans  with  our  civilisation,  which  is  dis- 
tinctly that  of  steam,  marked  in  a  hundred  ways  by 
steam ;  set  off  by  steam  in  a  hundred  ways  from 
the  European  civilisation  which  preceded  it;  and 
which,  indeed,  being  without  steam,  resembled  the 
Tibetan  civilisation  more  than  it  resembles  us.  We 
are  its  children,  indeed,  but  children  who  have  seen 
another  light. 

In  Tibet,  where  the  country  is  particularly  stub- 
born against  the  engineer's  attacks,  we  may  find  in 
the  years  to  come  our  only  refuge  in  all  the  civilised 
world  from  the  clangour  of  our  Frankenstein's  bells. 
Let  us  here  and  now  offer  up  thanks  to  a  foreseeing 
Providence  for  that  the  Himalayas  have  been  made 
high  and  steep. 


CHAPTER   XV 

SKETCH  OF  TIBETAN  HISTORY  FROM  MISTY  BEGIN- 
NINGS, 350  A.D.  (?),  TO  JOHN  BULL'S 

APPEARANCE 

HERE  all  is  darkness  until  the  fourth  or  fifth 
century  of  our  era.  In  Chinese  records,  long 
anterior  to  the  establishment  of  an  ordered  state, 
reference  is  made  to  the  Kiang  tribes  of  the  Koko- 
nor  and  adjoining  regions;  but  they  seem  to  have 
been  then  merely  savage  bands,  not  constituting  an 
organised  government  advanced  beyond  the  tribal 
status.  The  impulsion  toward  centralisation  came 
from  without,  and  may  have  been  accompanied  by 
some  measure  of  compulsion,  though  the  record 
runs  that  a  disaffected  prince  from  the  province  of 
Kan-su  (North  China)  moved  his  people  westward 
and  established  himself  among  the  Kiang  tribes, 
who  were  won  to  his  sway  by  his  justice  and  firm- 
ness as  a  ruler.  This  exodus  is  presumed  to  have 
taken  place  about  433  A.D.  The  name  of  Fanni  is 
given  the  leader,  and  his  nationality  is  presump- 
tively Chinese.  It  must  be  remembered,  however, 
that  the  region  from  which  he  came  lies  not  far  from 
the  home  of  the  northern  barbarians,  and  that  the 
time  was,  and  for  a  century  had  been,  one  of  great 
disorder,  marked  by  incursions  of  the  Mongols  across 
the  line  of  the  Great  Wall. 

185 


1 86  Tibet  and  Turkestan 

It  is  not  improbable  that  these  semi-civilised  im- 
migrants into  what  is  now  Tibetan  territory  were  of 
mixed  blood,  in  which  the  nomadic  Mongol  instinct 
predominated  over  the  stay-at-home  feeling  of  the 
true  Chinaman  from  the  central  provinces,  who  had 
civilised  and  absorbed  several  conquering  hordes  of 
the  north.  However  that  may  be,  the  subsequent 
fusion  with  indigenous  tribes  has  produced  a  type 
easily  distinguishable  from  that  of  Pekin.  Tib- 
etan chronicles,  written  by  Buddhist  lamas,  boldly 
ascend  beyond  the  fairly  well-established  date  of 
the  coming  of  Fanni,  and  recite  legends  concern- 
ing kings  from  the  south.  To  derive  their  nation's 
origin  from  this  quarter  would  flatter  their  religious 
prejudices.  The  unsatisfying  character  of  these 
legends,  until  the  stream  of  them  reaches  the  time 
and  event  set  forth  by  the  Chinese  records,  tends 
to  give  to  the  latter  a  yet  greater  credence.  Never- 
theless, the  traditions  looking  toward  India,  or  at 
least  toward  Bhutan  and  Nepal,  are  not  to  be  wholly 
neglected.  Travel  between  Tibetan  territory  and 
any  other  is,  indeed,  hard,  but  between  Central 
Tibet  and  Nepal  it  is  easier  than  with  Western  China. 

It  is  not  improbable  that  there  is  something  of 
truth  in  these  stories  of  southern  kings  establishing 
dynasties  antedating  by  several  centuries  that  which 
was  founded  by  Fanni.  There  is  space  enough, 
and  the  central  (Lhasa)  region  is  separated  from 
the  eastern  districts  by  enough  physical  difficulty  to 
justify  the  supposition  that  independent,  though 
inconsiderable,  states  may  have  existed  in  the  Tsang 
valley  before  Fanni  came  to  the  north-east  region. 
His  success  there  may  have  soon  resulted  in  coali- 


Sketch  of  Tibetan  History        187 

tion  of  government  and  blood  with  the  central  and 
western  peoples,  thus  putting  into  the  veins  of  the 
modern  Tibetan  strains  which  run  from  widely  sep- 
arated sources,  and  producing  a  type  marked  by 
special  characteristics.  It  cannot  be  supposed, 
however,  that  the  immigration  from  the  south  was 
numerous  or  that  it  came  from  the  splendid  Hindu 
civilisation  which  lay  south  and  west  of  Nepal,  and 
which  was  highly  developed  long  before  even  the 
legendary  beginning  of  the  southern  dynasties  (circa 
300  B.C.).  For  even  these  prejudiced  compilers  of 
the  pro-Indian  stories  declare  that  knowledge  of 
arithmetic  was  imported  from  •China  about  the  year 
600  A.D.,  and,  though  the  art  of  writing  is  said  to 
have  come  from  India,  it  is  evident  that  it  came  but 
as  a  part  of  the  Buddhistic  mission  work  and  was 
not  known  until  the  year  632  A.D.  The  Hindu 
civilisation  would  have  furnished  both  these  accom- 
plishments from  the  beginning  of  any  colonisation 
traceable  to  such  a  source. 

Nothing  could  better  illustrate  the  seclusion  of 
this  people  than  this  extraordinarily  late  date  for  the 
introduction  of  the  three  R's.  It  suggests  that  the 
Fanni  movement  was,  indeed,  that  of  a  people  on 
the  rim  of  Chinese  civilisation  and  that  the  mythical 
Indian  kings  of  the  lamas'  chronicles  were  but  rude 
mountain  chiefs  from  Bhutan  or  Nepal.  Turkestan, 
desert-  and  mountain-bound  as  it  is,  had  its  letters 
eight  hundred  years  earlier  than  this  secluded  land 
—  a  Bastile  built  by  demons,  where  a  nation  might 
be  forgotten.1 

1  In  accepting  the  early  part  of  the  seventh  century  as  the  date  of 
writing's  birth  in  Tibet,  we  must  compromise  with  a  Chinese  record, 


1 88  Tibet  and  Turkestan 

/The  acceptance  of  a  religious  creed  by  a  people 
/already  endowed  with  civil  arts  can  never  be  as  pro- 
foundly efficient  to  inspire  a  national  development 
as  when  there  monies  to  barbarians,  with  religion,  a 
first  knowledge  also  of  all  the  things  which  make 
for  material  enlightenment.  Adopted  Christianity 
could  not  save  the  gilded-,  educated  Rome,  which 
enthroned  it,  from  a  direful  fall.  But  given  to  the 
invading  barbarians,  with  all  the  retinue  of  Roman 

quoted  by  Rockhill,  which  would  seem  to  establish  the  existence  as 
early  as  the  year  600  A.D.  of  a  woman-governed  country,  lying  in 
Eastern  Tibet,  and  near  to  the  territory  occupied  by  the  Tu-Ku-Hun 
(Fanni)  immigrants.  The  difficulty  presented  by  this  record  lies  in 
the  fact  that  the  queen  is  reported  as  living  in  a  nine-storied  house, 
and  her  subjects  as  occupying  smaller,  yet  considerable  buildings. 
It  seems  incredible  that  a  people  capable  of  such  engineering  as  is 
involved  in  the  construction  of  great  buildings  should  be  without  a 
written  language.  If  this  woman's  kingdom  existed  as  reported,  if 
it  had  a  written  language,  then  the  larger  Tibetan  state,  whose  or- 
ganisation must  have  included  the  domains  of  the  legendary  queens 
would  not  have  stood  in  need  of  an  imported  alphabet  ;  and, 
further,  a  nine-storied  civilisation  could  fairly  be  expected  to  leave 
some  record  of  its  existence,  written  or  traditional,  among  the  people 
who  are  its  direct  descendants.  Yet,  apparently  only  the  Chinese 
learned  of  the  extraordinary  society  which  they  report  as  having  its 
seats  adjacent  to  those  of  the  other  sixth-century  peoples,  the  Tu- 
Ku-Hun  and  the  T'ang  Hsiang.  Both  of  these  are  described  by 
the  same  records  as  living  in  tents,  signifying  a  rude,  nomadic  life 
strongly  contrasted  with  the  civil  development  suggested  by  the 
royal  "sky-scraper."  If  this  record  bore  a  later  date;  if  its  inser- 
tion in  the  Sui  annals  were  due  to  an  error  of  a  century,  then  we 
might  believe  that  Chinese  travellers  found  an  accidental  case  of 
woman's  rule,  following  the  introduction  of  Indian  and  Chinese 
learning  and  art ;  and  that  an  obsequious  chronicler  exaggerated  the 
role  of  some  transient  female  royalty,  out  of  compliment  to  the 
great  Empress  Woo  How,  or  her  domineering  daughter-in-law,  who, 
between  them,  governed  China  for  almost  the  whole  of  the  century 
650-750  A.D. 


Sketch  of  Tibetan  History        189 

arts,  it  seems  the  mother  of  virtues.  Buddhism, 
powerful  for  a  time  in  the  land  of  its  birth,  was 
powerless  to  uplift  the  old  Ganges  valley,  full  of 
fixed  tradition,  sacred  literature  and  established  arts. 
So,  in  the  great  middle  plains  of  China,  it  became  but 
a  quiet  partner  with  Confucianism  to  steady,  not  to 
revolutionise  the  spirits  of  a  race  which  had  already 
lived  and  died  and  written  and  built  and  sowed  and 
reaped  through  the  centuries.  But  in  the  newly 
colonise^  Ceylon,  in  Burmah,  in  rough  Weste 
China,  in  lost  Tibet—here  it  became  a  passion, 
propelling  force,  formative  of  societies  in  their  pliant 
youth.  Assuming  merely  a  substance  of  human 
nature,  in  the  way  of  rough  mountain-men,  grazing 
their  flocks  and  tilling  their  difficult,  terraced  fields, 
we  view  this  force  with  its  powerful  adjunct  force, 
knowledge  of  the  arts,  acting  to  produce  what  may 
be  taken  almost  as  the  birth  of  a  people.  In  these 
cases  the  creed,  which  immediately  has  its  votaries 
organised  as  such,  thus  obtaining  interested  spokes- 
men, is  proclaimed  as  the  sole  flame  of  inspiration; 
yet,  truly,  it  may  often  be  seen  that  the  spirit  of 
wild  men  cannot  accept  peace  doctrines ;  they  burn 
with  zeal  for  the  personality  involved  in  the  creed, 
their  intellects  are  tremendously  stimulated  by  the 
excitement  of  "conversion,"  and,  above  all,  by  the 
mental  food  contained  in  the  newly  acquired  arts ; 
but  the  inconsiderate  selfishness  of  youth  is  still  in 
their  hearts.  Hence  they  may  be  seen— Goths  in 
Europe,  Tibetans  in  Asia,  crying  out  the  names  of 
the  two  great  Compassionate  Ones,  Christ  and 
Buddha,  while  they  rush  to  battle,  while  they  split 
the  heads  of  children,  while  in  blood  they  cement 


190  Tibet  and  Turkestan 

the  foundations  of  new  states,  and  vigorously  work 
out  their  savage  young  strength  to  a  maturity  which 
still  declares  the  sacred  name,  and  still  lives  the 
racial,  violent  law,  whatever  it  may  be;  never,  in 
the  strong,  young  races,  more  than  parroting  the 
words  of  abnegation  which  the  Teachers  spoke. 

Parallel  to  the  violences  which  made  Europe  as  it 
is,  we  see,  almost  immediately  after  the  advent  of 
Buddhism,  arithmetic  and  letters,  an  expansion  of 
the  national  Tibetan  spirit.  Here  as  elsewhere  it 
began  translating  itself  when  possible  into  conquest. 
The  outward  movement  is  less  marked  here  than 
in  other  lands  under  like  conditions  of  excitement, 
because  the  physical  restrictions  are  more  unyield- 
ing. Yet  something  was  done.  First  Lhasa  was 
established,  then  the  far  ^vest — the  Ladak  country 
— was  subdued ;  then  some  of  the  still  independent 
Kiang  tribes  were  assimilated ;  then  followed  de- 
scents upon  Turkestan  to  the  north  and  overrun- 
ning of  Nepal  to  the  south.  Temerity  went  even 
so  far  as  to  beat  in  the  back  door  of  China.  But 
this  brought  retribution  upon  the  over  -  active 
youngster — an  army  marched  to  Lhasa  and  burnt 
his  palace  about  the  year  700  A.D. 

In  a  sudden  volte-face  from  external  (unsuccessful) 
activity,  a  pious  monarch  dreamed  the  dream  of 
equality  for  all  but  himself.  Riches  were  equalised 
— fields  all  remeasured,  animals  all  recounted,  that 
Smith  and  Jones  might  stand  before  heaven  and 
the  king  in  equality  of  worldly  privilege.  Ere  he 
died,  the  third  effort  at  maintaining  dull  or  lazy 
Smith  in  possession  of  his  wealth  against  intelligent 
or  laborious  Jones  had  failed.  That  it  should  have 


I 

a, 

03 

U 


Sketch  of  Tibetan  History        191 

been  attempted  bespeaks  a  powerful  central  force. 
Such  tyranny  rarely  exists  save  as  the  outgrowth  of 
a  theocratic  tendency.  This  may  take  the  form  of 
a  concession  of  earthly  power  to  a  religious  teacher, 
as  in  the  case  of  the  Pope  or  the  Dalai  Lama ;  or,  by 
reversal,  the  ascription  of  religious  character  to  the 
earthly  ruler,  as  in  the  case  of  the  Roman  tyrants, 
the  Russian  Czar,  and  the  Turkish  Sultan;  or, 
lastly,  the  yielding  to  an  organised  priesthood  of 
that  general  power  which  superior  intelligence  can 
gain,  and  can  easily  gain,  when  playing  upon  the 
superstitions  of  the  ignorant.  It  may  well  be  sur- 
mised that  the  lamas,  corresponding  to  the  priests 
and  monks  of  our  Dark  Ages,  were  then,  as  now, 
almost  the  only  writers  in  the  land  ;  and  when  a  peo- 
ple, not  given  to  industry  as  in  the  modern  world, 
cease  for  a  time  to  fight,  then  the  " clerks,"  the  cleri- 
cals, the  "learned,"  will  soon  control  the  king  and 
the  people,  who  yield  much  to  the  combination  of 
crown  and  book.  The  impractical  levelling  effort 
of  Munibtsan-po  may  be  taken  as  an  indication  of 
clerical  influence  at  its  best,  when  it  is  still  aiming 
at  high  moral  ideals,  and  has  not  yet  grasped  the 
sceptre,  or  even  begun  systematically  to  struggle 
for  it.  That  follows. 

Meanwhile,  another  encounter  with  China  took 
place,  noticeable  because  the  peace-treaty  ending 
the  bloodshed  (821  A.D.)  is  still  in  existence,  on  bi- 
lingual tablets  preserved  at  Lhasa.  They  are,  per- 
haps, the  earliest  indubitable  historic  monuments  of 
the  country,  significant  of  its  greatness,  important 
also  to  the  philologist.  It  is  recorded  that  shortly 
after  this  event  the  reigning  king  instituted  a 


1 92  Tibet  and  Turkestan 

persecution  of  Buddhism ;  a  remarkable  statement 
when  measured  by  the  fact  that  for  a  long  time  all  his 
predecessors  are  said  to  have  shown  more  or  less  zeal 
for  the  Faith.  One  may  well  question  whether  this 
may  not  be  the  monkish  way  of  stating  that  the  king 
was  not  friendly  to  them.  Our  European  records 
are  full  of  such  solecisms  :  "Religion"  and  "the 
Church"  are,  among  Catholics,  systematically  con- 
nected, and  even  a  Catholic  king,  engaged  in  curb- 
ing merely  the  excesses  of  the  "Church,"  may 
appear,  in  clerical  records,  as  an  oppressor  of  re- 
ligion. However  it  may  be,  the  objectionable  king 
was  soon  assassinated,  and  disorder  followed  for  a 
weary  period  covering  generations  of  his  successors. 
Two  rival  thrones  first  divided  the  country  east  and 
west ;  then  thrones  were  multiplied  as  sons  were 
begot.  While  the  temporal  power  waned,  the 
spiritual  waxed.  About  the  year  1040  A.D.  (the  pre- 
ceding two  centuries  presenting  only  a  confusion 
of  kingdoms,  now  divided,  now  reunited)  a  great 
Buddhist  teacher,  Atesha,  was  invited  into  the  coun- 
try by  one  of  the  Western  kings.  He  attained  much 
esteem  throughout  the  country,  reformed  the  calen- 
dar, and  by  his  wisdom  undoubtedly  increased  popu- 
lar respect  for  the  priesthood. 

Another  two-century  period  rolls  over  the  country, 
which  is  still  broken  into  fragments ;  Kublai  Khan, 
one  of  the  greatest  of  the  Mongol  emperors,  is  on 
China's  throne.  His  forces  make  their  victorious 
way  across  the  eastern  frontier  of  Tibet,  subjecting 
portions  of  the  national  territory.  The  rest  may 
not  have  been  thought  worthy  of  sacking.  Some 
sort  of  overlordship  seems  to  have  been  recognised 


Sketch  of  Tibetan  History        193 

in  him ;  for  a  lama,  from  the  Sakya  monastery,  was 
invited  to  the  Court  of  the  great  Khan,  where  Mon- 
gol religious  indifference  made  a  place  and  a  cere- 
monial for  every  respectable  creed.  Phagspa  Lodoi 
Gyaltshan,  the  favoured  lama,  would  scarcely  have 
gone  to  him  who  had  just  ravaged  part  of  Tibet,  had 
not  the  Eastern  Tibetan  king  already  bent  to  the 
majesty  of  the  ruler,  who  in  that  part  of  the  world 
seemed  universal.  That  the  temporal  power  was 
at  ebb  tide  is  evident  from  the  fact  that  the  mere 
fiat  of  the  distant  Khan  seems  to  have  been  suffi- 
cient to  place  Phagspa  as  ruler  over  all  the  Eastern 
country. 

This  seems  to  have  been  the  formal  beginning 
(1270  A.D.)  of  the  system  of  lama  rule  under  Chinese 
suzerainty,  which,  with  some  interruption,  has  con- 
tinued until  the  present  day.  Rivalries  have  existed 
between  monasteries,  as  in  other  countries  between 
contending  royal  families ;  and  when  these  rivalries 
became  acute,  and  too  much  energy  was  expended 
in  monkish  intrigue,  occasion  offered  for  the  uprising 
of  some  lay  nobleman,  or  the  special  exertion  of  the 
recognised  authority  of  the  Son  of  heaven,  or  of 
some  temporarily  powerful  chief  of  the  Mongol 
peoples  west  of  China  proper  and  north  of  Tibet. 
Not  until  the  eighteenth  century  was  there  disturb- 
ance from  the  south,  nor  from  Turkestan  on  the 
north ;  save  that  Ladak,  so  distant  from  the  central 
provinces,  was  overrun  in  1531  A.D.  by  a  Moham- 
medan ruler  coming  up  from  Kashgar,  and  again, 
about  1610  A.D.,  by  the  Balti  tribes  to  the  west  of 
Tibet,  and  who  have  continued  their  annoying  raids 
against  caravans  up  to  our  own  day.  A  temporal 


iQ4  Tibet  and  Turkestan 

ruler,  Phagmodu,  about  1350  A.D.,  succeeded  in  tak- 
ing away  the  strictly  lay  power  from  the  monks, 
and  his  dynasty  was  recognised  by  the  Imperial 
Court  at  Pekin,  but  by  the  middle  of  the  fifteenth 
century  his  course  seems  to  have  been  run.  In- 
deed, while  his  family  were  yet  on  the  throne,  there 
were  several  great  monasteries  exercising  independ- 
ent lordship  over  the  properties  belonging  to  them, 
independent  except  as  they  were  subject  to  the  over- 
lord in  Pekin.  As  against  the  royal  authority  in 
Tibet,  they  constituted  a  true  imperium  in  imperio. 
Monastic  orders  were  constantly  recruiting  from 
the  body  of  the  people,  hence  their  organisation  was 
not  subject  to  the  deterioration  of  luxury  which  saps 
every  royal  family,  determines  dynastic  changes, 
and  would  overthrow  monarchy  itself  were  its  prin- 
ciples not  so  important  to  certain  societies  that  in- 
stinctively there  develops  a  ruling  aristocracy  or 
family  or  class  which  yet  declares  itself  as  acting 
only  in  the  name  of  royal  decoy — awaiting  a  resur- 
rection of  kingly  merit,  or  a  revolution. 

It  is  worthy  of  remark  that  Phagmodu,  the  founder 
of  the  kingly  power  just  mentioned,  was  in  the  maxi- 
mum of  his  activity  when  the  great  Mongol  dynasty, 
founded  by  Jenghiz  Khan,  was  in  the  agonies  of 
dissolution,  its  last  representative  (1333-1368  A.D.), 
Shun-te,  presenting  the  perfect  type  of  the  royal 
scion  debauched  by  inherited  power  and  luxury. 

The  Ming  dynasty,  of  true  Chinese  blood,  flour- 
ished and  weakened,  falling  before  the  present 
Manchu  rulers  in  1644  A.D.  The  affairs  of  Tibet, 
as  to  governmental  authority,  were  much  compli- 
cated during  all  of  this  period.  Religious  considera- 


Sketch  of  Tibetan  History        195 

tion  for  the  great  lamas  was,  however,  spreading, 
and  as  early  as  1475  the  head  of  the  Galdan  Monas- 
tery (near  Lhasa)  seems  to  have  been  able  to  rule 
nearly  the  whole  country,  but  his  authority  in  civil 
matters  was  exercised  through  a  regent,  called 
variously  Depa  or  Jaypa;  and  this  method  of  com- 
promising, with  the  theory  that  an  incarnation 
should  have  no  concern  with  things  earthly,  has 
been  followed  ever  since.  So  wide  was  the  reputa- 
tion for  sanctity  of  the  Tibetan  Incarnations  that 
rude  tribes  of  the  Far  North  bent  to  their  authority, 
in  spiritual  matters,  while  brooking  on  earth  no  for- 
eign sway  which  could  not  write  its  title  in  blood. 

One  of  the  great  Tartar  chiefs,  Altan,  desirous  of 
knowing  more  intimately  the  sacred  teachings,  and 
perhaps  thinking  to  add  lustre  to  his  savage  Court, 
secured  a  lama  of  special  power  and  veneration  to 
visit  him.  This  was  in  1576,  and  this  lama,  Sodman 
Gynatso,  seems  to  have  been  the  first  to  bear  spe- 
cifically the  title  of  Dalai  (Great),  which  now  distin- 
guishes the  ruler  of  Tibet.  This  establishment  of 
a  body  of  spiritual  followers  of  Lamaism  in  distant 
territory  was  soon  followed  by  important  conse- 
quences, and  is  to-day  the  source  of  a  current  of 
events  which  promises  to  radically  change  the  politi- 
cal orientation  of  the  country.  Feeling  that  their 
conversion  gave  them  a  proper  interest  in  the  con- 
duct of  pontifical  affairs,  the  Mongols  came  down 
about  the  year  1644  A.D.  to  intervene  in  the  troubled 
affairs  of  the  land,  which  was  that  of  their  newly 
adopted  shrines.  A  powerful  lama  of  the  time,  un- 
appreciative  of  their  burning  zeal,  bought  their 
departure  with  a  price.  This  the  Mongol  leader 


196  Tibet  and  Turkestan 

accepted  as  tribute  money,  with  the  dream  that  he 
might  be  recognised  as  suzerain  instead  of  the 
Chinese  throne,  which  was  just  then  being  emptied 
of  one  dynasty  (Ming)  to  be  filled  by  another  (now 
reigning). 

As  soon  as  the  wily  lama  saw  the  backs  of  the 
Mongols,  and  knew  that  a  firm  command  of  China 
was  now  practically  in  the  hands  of  the  Manchus, 
he  sent  to  the  new  sovereign  of  that  mighty  empire, 
asking  intervention  on  his  part.  This  seems  to  have 
angered  Yuchi  Khan,  son  of  the  Mongol  prince  who 
had  so  recently  been  the  patron  of  the  land ;  or  it 
gave  occasion  to  some  rival  monastery  unfriendly  to 
the  Chinese  party.  From  whatever  cause,  Yuchi 
Khan  swept  down  upon  Tibet,  upset  a  number  of 
princelets  and  recalcitrant  monks,  and  established 
the  Dalai  Lama  of  that  date  (1645)  as  supreme  ruler. 
Neither  these  Mongols  nor  their  Manchu  succes- 
sors, attempted  to  take  in  hand  the  direct  and  de- 
tailed control  of  Tibetan  administration;  but  the 
Ambans,  delegates-resident  of  China,  must  be  con- 
sulted in  the  selection  of  all  important  officials. 
And  even  the  divinely  guided  choice,  by  the  head 
monks,  of  the  Dalai  Lama  is  not  effective  until  ap- 
proved in  Pekin.  Something  of  this  worldly  aid 
to  inspired  action  has  been  seen  in  the  election  of 
more  than  one  Roman  pontiff  of  modern  date,  while 
in  the  past  he  who  wore  the  crown  of  the  Holy 
Roman  Empire  boldly  claimed  and  exercised  a  right 
of  approval,  entirely  analogous  to  that  possessed  by 
the  Chinese  Emperor  in  respect  to  the  Dalai  Lama. 

The  patronage  of  art  by  corrupt  churchmen,  the 
building  by  them  of  great  monuments  which  became 


Sketch  of  Tibetan  History        197 

the  pride  of  their  most  pious  successors, — this  also 
is  familiar  reading  in  Catholic  history,  and  had  its 
counterpart  at  Lhasa  about  the  beginning  of  the 
eighteenth  century,  when  the  Potala  (Vatican  and 
St.  Peter's  combined)  and  other  notable  buildings 
were  beautified  and  enlarged.  The  occasional  pro- 
minence of  the  pontifical  "nephew"  was  also  then 
illustrated  in  the  person  of  Sangji  Gyamtso,  putative 
natural  son  of  that  celibate,  the  Dalai  Lama,  who 
had  founded  the  Potala. 

How  familiar  is  this  figure  in  royal  and  pontifical 
European  records!  Talented,  ambitious,  unscrupu- 
lous, accomplished,  the  scandal  and  the  pride  of  a 
Court  and  nation,  this  Sangji  Gyamtso  ruled  as 
regent  for  many  years.  The  death  of  his  patron 
was  for  a  long  time  cleverly  concealed,  and,  even 
when  announced,  Gyamtso  was  able  to  give  a  satis- 
factory explanation  of  his  duplicity.  The  troublous 
Mongol  interventions  gave  reasons  of  state ;  he  re- 
tained his  influence  and,  when  a  new  Incarnation 
was  to  be  discovered,  was  able  to  direct  the  direct- 
ing spirits  toward  a  dissolute  youth,  upon  whom  he 
had  evidently  lavished  his  destructive  care  since  the 
date  of  the  concealed  death,  nearly  sixteen  years 
before. 

The  Jesuit,  Father  Desideri,  who  was  in  Lhasa 
from  1716  to  1721,  witnessed  the  last  efforts  of  the 
Mongols  from  the  north  (this  time  from  Dzungaria) 
to  control  Tibetan  polity.  The  definite  triumph  of 
Chinese  arms  occurred  in  1720,  when  Lhasa  was 
taken  from  the  foreign  troops  and  the  native  faction 
which  supported  them.  This  European  observer, 
who  doubtless  thought  of  the  invariable  pillage  and 


198  Tibet  and  Turkestan 

rapine  which  were  implied  in  the  taking  of  Christian 
cities  by  Christian  armies  at  that  time,  records  his 
admiration  for  the  order  and  restraint  of  the  Chinese 
soldiery.1 

After  two  generations  of  quiet  in  Tibet,  the  prow- 
ess of  the  Celestial  soldier  was  again  illustrated  in 
the  campaign  against  the  Goorkhas.  These  fight- 
ing men,  now  so  highly  prized  by  the  British,  had 
come  up  from  the  Rajput  country,  driven  by  the 
Moslems,  and  had  overrun  the  Nepal  country  about 
1768,  there  subduing  the  native  Buddhist  state, 
composed  of  tribes  not  unlike  the  Tibetans,  and  in 
religion  holding  much  in  common  with  them.  Suc- 
cess makes  boldness.  From  newly  conquered  seats 
the  restless  warriors  climbed  the  passes  through 
which  the  jealous  Himalayas  permit  a  difficult  entry 
to  their  uplifted  court.  From  this  quarter  the  by- 
gone years  had  brought  no  dangers  to  the  lama  peo- 
ple, whose  unguarded  peace  was  now  wounded  by 
the  sudden  rush  of  furious  Goorkhas,  trained  to  war. 
A  cry  for  help  was  sent  to  the  "Elder  Brother"; 
weary  days  of  waiting  passed,  rilled  with  bloody 
deeds  of  the  advancing  foe.  But,  what  with  the 
resistance  offered  by  men  fighting  for  their  homes, 

1  In  view  of  the  contempt  in  which  Europeans  generally  hold  the 
warriors  of  China,  their  exploits  in  overcoming  Mongol  braves  of 
the  kind  who  marched  across  Europe  in  our  early  centuries,  are 
worthy  of  study.  It  is  probable  that  investigation  would  discover 
the  recruiting  grounds  to  be  of  rather  limited  area  and  of  compara- 
tively rude  culture  ;  but  the  Empire  has  shown  itself  to  be  so  fruit- 
ful in  soldiery  for  Central  Asian  conquest,  that,  discounting  as  we 
may  the  military  value  of  the  swarming  millions  of  the  valleys,  we 
must  not  assume  that  a  mechanically  wise  China  shall  not  be  a 
redoubtable  war  power.  Happily  its  people  are  lovers  of  peace. 


Sketch  of  Tibetan  History        199 

what  with  the  rigours  with  which  Nature  makes  a 
bulwark  for  these,  her  little-favoured  children,  the 
Goorkhas  were  not  able  to  widely  conquer  an  unwar- 
like  land  ere  an  army  and  its  leaders  came  from  the 
east.  Then  the  doughty  invaders  met  their  match ; 
they  were  forced  to  an  inglorious  peace ;  and  until 
a  very  late  date,  perhaps  even  now,  the  Raja  sends 
an  embassy  with  tribute  to  far  Pekin,  remembering 
1792. 


CHAPTER   XVI 

A   CENTURY  OF  IRRITATIONS— THE  FUMES  OF  THE 

OPIUM  WAR  CLOUD  THE  POLITICAL  SKY — 

FATHERS  HUC   AND   GABET 

SO  vigorous  was  this  Chinese  campaign  that  a 
treaty  of  peace  had  been  signed  ere  the  appeal 
of  the  Goorkhas  to  British  power  at  Calcutta  could 
be  answered.  The  East  India  Company  was  ready 
to  respond,  but  Colonel  Kirkpatrick,  sent  by  Lord 
Cornwallis,  arrived  too  late  to  enter  into  a  bloody 
contention,  which,  if  thus  complicated,  might  have 
altered  Tibetan  history.  His  visit  accomplished 
little,  except  to  sow  in  the  minds  of  the  Chinese 
that  distrust  of  the  British  which  they  have  had  so 
many  occasions  to  justify,  and  which  properly  ex- 
tends to  all  European  military  nations. 

It  is  pleasant  to  turn  from  the  contemplation  of 
a  possible  unprovoked  British  attack  (which  was 
postponed  for  more  than  a  century)  and  read  of 
the  friendly  relations  which  existed  between  Tibet 
and  the  Company,  under  Hastings,  the  great  prede- 
cessor of  Cornwallis,  as  Governor-General.  Bhutan, 
east  of  Nepal,  its  people  and  institutions  much  re- 
sembling those  of  Tibet,  had  given  offence  by  way 
of  some  violence  against  territory  claimed  to  be 
under  British  protection.  The  Bhutanese  were  duly 
punished,  and  when  measures  of  special  rigour  were 

200 


A  Century  of  Irritations          201 

about  to  be  enforced,  there  came  a  letter  from  the 
Teshoo  lama,  co-partner  with  the  Dalai  Lama  in 
saintliness,  and,  like  him,  an  Incarnation.  At  that 
time  he  seemed  also  to  have  had  a  certain  jurisdic- 
tion or  suzerainty  over  the  Bhutan  country.  The 
letter  is  addressed  to  Hastings,  grants  that  the  mis- 
chief was  probably  chargeable  against  the  Bhutan- 
ese,  recites  the  punishment  already  inflicted,  then, 
setting  forth  his  mission  as  one  of  intercession  for 
all  mankind,  and  his  special  concern  for  the  poor 
mountain  people,  he,  as  an  intermediary  whose 
office,  religious  and  temporal,  warrants  interference, 
presents  his  plea  for  mercy.  The  tone  of  the  letter 
and  the  representations  made  by  the  legate  who  de- 
livered it  were  so  marked  by  fairness  and  dignity 
that  a  just  cause  was  quickly  won. 

Mr.  Bogle  was  first  sent  into  Tibet  representing 
Hastings.  He  became  very  fond  of  the  Teshoo 
lama  and  has  left  a  pleasing  report  of  his  relations 
with  the  people,  who  had  not  then  learned  to  fear 
his  kind.  The  presents  sent  to  Hastings,  following 
universal  custom  in  the  East,  made  as  much  impres- 
sion on  the  Englishman  as  did  the  pleadings  for  the 
weak.  "Perhaps  there  are  trade  opportunities  in  a 
country  whose  chief  is  so  enlightened  and  so  (appar- 
ently) rich,"  thought  he  who  ruled  for  a  trading 
company. 

Other  correspondence  followed,  and  finally  a 
second  mission  to  Tibet,  consisting  of  Captain  Tur- 
ner and  a  medical  officer  with  a  small  escort,  bearing 
gifts  and  assurances  of  friendship.  Turner  has  left 
one  of  the  most  interesting  records  that  have  come 
down  to  us  from  the  early  travellers,  who  were  so 


202  Tibet  and  Turkestan 

freely  admitted  to  Tibet  at  that  time.  Nothing  could 
have  been  pleasanter  than  the  reception  given  to 
Turner  by  the  regent  who  acted  for  the  Teshoo  lama, 
a  babe  of  eighteen  months,  successor  to  him  who  had 
begun  the  correspondence  with  Hastings,  and  who 
had  warmly  received  Bogle.  One  who  writes  of 
Tibet  now  is  tempted  to  make  large  borrowings  from 
the  cheerful  text  which  Turner  gives  us.  His  busi- 
ness did  not  call  him  to  Lhasa,  and  it  is  stated,  more- 
over, that  the  Chinese,  even  then,  interposed  some 
objection  to  his  progress  thither.  Whatever  may 
have  been  the  causes,  neither  he  nor  Bogle  reached 
the  sacred  city.  The  Teshoo  lama  has  his  seat  to 
the  westward  of  the  capital,  and  here  Turner  saw 
much  and  intimately  of  Tibetan  life,  which  he  de- 
scribed with  critical  but  sympathetic  observation. 
It  will  be  but  the  beginning  of  justice  to  quote  from 
this  Englishman,  for  comparison  with  present-day 
representations,  the  following  words:  "The  Tibet- 
ans are  a  very  humane,  kind  people,"  and  again: 
"Humanity  and  an  unartificial  gentleness  of  disposi- 
tion are  the  constant  inheritance  of  a  Tibetan." 

The  Nepal  war  ended,  there  followed  years  of 
peace  for  Central  and  Eastern  Tibet.  But  another 
attack  from  India  had  to  be  repelled  in  1846,  and 
again  the  enemy  was  an  ally  of  the  British.  There 
is  no  evidence  that  the  attack  of  the  Goorkhas  in 
1791  was  incited  by  the  English,  for  the  Goorkhas 
were  then  bound  to  Calcutta  only  through  a  com- 
mercial treaty.  Nor  can  it  be  said  that  the  attack 
of  the  Jammu-Kashmir  army  upon  Ladak  and  sub- 

1  Even  the  semi-official  Times  correspondent  with  the  recent  expe- 
dition finds  a  good  word  for  the  peasants.  See  Appendix  P. 


C/2 


A  Century  of  Irritations          203 

sequently  upon  Rudok  (1846)  was  known  to  English 
officials  until  after  it  was  made.  But  the  Chinese 
may  well  have  learned  that  the  Jammu  Maharajah, 
once  a  great  Sikh  leader  and  enemy  of  the  British, 
was  now  their  ally,  and  it  might  fairly  be  supposed 
that  he  would  not  attack  Tibetan  territory  unless 
he  had  the  tacit  approval  of  his  suzerain.  The  rape 
of  Ladak  was  scarcely  resisted ;  possibly  the  extra- 
ordinary difficulties  of  the  march  from  Lhasa,  to- 
gether with  the  delay  involved  in  getting  leaders  and 
some  troops  from  China  proper,  had  rendered  im- 
possible any  effective  opposition.  But  now  a  fur- 
ther thrust  of  the  Dogra  troops,  who  ventured  from 
newly  acquired  Ladak  just  as  the  Goorkhas  had 
come  out  from  Nepal,  roused  the  distant  giant.  An 
army,  partly  Chinese,  partly  Tibetan,  crossed  the 
vast  and  desolate  country  which  separates  Western 
Tibet  from  Lhasa. 

The  intruders  were  forced  back,  "keeping  Ladak, 
it  is  true;  but  again  we  admiringly  find  the  majesty 
of  the  Elder  Brother  recognised  by  the  periodic  pre- 
sents sent  from  the  Maharajah  of  Kashmir  to  the 
Emperor  who  reigns  so  far  away,  across  so  many 
leagues  of  upheaved  and  pathless  wilderness, — in 
memory  of  1846. 

This  date  is  of  special  importance  in  the  history 
of  European  relations  with  Tibet.  In  this  same 
year  of  the  Ladak  war,  Father  Hue  entered  Lhasa, 
was  kindly  received  by  the  Tibetan  authorities,  and 
after  a  stay  of  a  few  months  was  required  by  the 
Chinese  authority  in  Lhasa  to  leave,  reasonable 
provision  being  made  for  his  transportation  to,  and 
through,  China.  No  other  Europeans  entered  Lhasa 


204  Tibet  and  Turkestan 

or  its  immediate  neighbourhood  until  the  year  of 
our  Lord  1904,  when  a  British-led  force  of  Indian 
troops  shot  their  way  over  defenceless  villages  to  a 
distracted  capital. 

The  expulsion  of  Father  Hue  was  not  an  isolated 
episode  in  the  history  of  an  isolated  country.  It 
grew  out  of  one  of  the  blackest  crimes  with  which 
our  civilisation  is  chargeable.  Will  it  not  be  suffi- 
cient to  say  that  the  Chinese  official  who  chanced 
to  be  then  at  Lhasa  was  Ke-Shen,  a  man  who  had, 
as  signer,  under  duress,  of  a  treaty  at  Canton  in 
1841,  terminated  the  opium  war  and  had  thus  par- 
ticipated in  his  country's  humiliation,  as  well  as  in 
the  disgrace  of  his  country's  enemy — England — 
more  shameful  in  success  than  China  in  defeat?  For 
fifty  years  the  Pekin  Government  had  endeavoured 
to  arrest  the  fatal  traffic.  Insignificant  when  the 
Mogul  emperors  ruled  India,  it  had  grown  with  the 
growth  of  British  power.  Declared  illicit,  it  had 
flourished  in  British  hands;  from  British  ships  as 
depots  it  defied  Chinese  authority  in  Chinese  ports. 
When,  for  a  season,  righteousness  had  prevailed; 
when  a  Christian  English  officer  had  yielded  up 
twenty  thousand  smuggled  poison-cases  to  be  de- 
stroyed; when  they  had  been  burned  by  "  heathen" 
Chinese  officers,  zealous  to  protect  their  country 
from  a  curse,  then  a  Christian  Government  declared 
war  and  forced  by  cannon's  might  a  helpless  people 
to  admit  the  baneful  drug.  And,  even  if  not  bane- 
ful, even  if  it  were  ambrosia,  what  shame  to  override 
— but  why  argue  this  cause  ntfaste  ?  Let  it  not  be 
rehearsed,  for  all  have  heard  it,  and  let  it  not  be 
forgotten  in  judging  all  Chinese- European  history 


A  Century  of  Irritations          205 

which  followed.  For  in  the  sequestered  valleys  of 
Tibet  the  echo  of  British  cannon  was  heard,  a  tocsin 
arousing  every  dormant  suspicion  against  the  white 
man. 

Nor  ask  these  startled  people  to  narrowly  dis- 
tinguish between  French  and  English  and  German. 
Do  not  we,  pride-blind  in  our  wisdom,  fill  books 
with  level  criticism  of  "Asiatics,"  mingling  civilisa- 
tions and  barbarisms,  plainsman  and  mountaineer, 
Mohammedan  and  Buddhist,  Mongol  and  Aryan, 
in  one  foolish  mummery  of  insulting  classification? 
So  it  was  that  Ke-Shen — wiser  than  the  kindly 
Tibetans,  knowing  better  than  they  the  fearful 
power  of  the  white  man,  remembering  Nepal,  re- 
membering Rudok,  burning  with  shame  for  Canton 
— inflexibly  demanded  that  the  French  missionary 
should  go. 

"Fear  the  Greeks,  bearing  gifts."  Like  so  many 
of  his  predecessors,  Father  Hue  seemed  —  indeed 
he  was — an  humble,  devoted  evangel,  seeking  not 
the  glory  of  France,  or  of  Europe,  but  of  Christ. 
Yet  he  was  Europe;  he  will,  in  spite  of  himself, 
spy  out  the  land;  he  will  spread  knowledge  of  it 
through  the  peoples  to  whom  his  body  and  his  mind 
belonged,  and,  even  if  he  be  only  a  lama  (who 
knows  in  Lhasa  what  he  really  is?),  his  story  will 
excite  the  gold-lust,  the  power-lust  of  the  restless, 
the  irresistible;  of  the  people  who  ride  on  the 
waters  with  fire,  and  who  seize  the  uttermost  parts 
of  the  earth  with  hands  that  run  with  blood. 

The  obvious  co-operation  in  later  years  between 
Chinese  and  Tibetans  in  enforcing  a  determined 
policy  of  exclusion  against  all  foreigners,  Asiatic  as 


206  Tibet  and  Turkestan 

well  as  European,  has  caused  some  thoughtless 
writers  to  question  the  good  faith  or  acumen  of 
Father  Hue  and  earlier  travellers  who  attest  the 
friendliness  of  the  Tibetans  as  contrasted  with  the 
rigidity  of  their  Chinese  advisers.  The  explanation 
is  not  far  to  seek.  China,  being  more  exposed,  first 
felt  the  shock  of  European  aggression.  Since  the 
time  of  Father  Hue,  the  Tibetans  have  learned  from 
happenings  on  their  western  and  southern  frontier 
something  of  the  danger  to  native  states  which  arises 
from  the  smallest  opening  left  to  the  coming-in 
either  of  the  European  or  of  his  subject  native 
races.  Bhutan,  Sikkim,  and  Nepal,  rough  mountain 
states  on  Tibet's  northern  border,  have  been  forced 
to  admit  British  residents  at  their  capitals.  How 
far-extended  might  be  the  influence  thus  gained  no 
one,  except  the  principals,  could  at  any  time  know. 
That  their  neighbours  would  have  preferred  com- 
plete independence  was,  of  course,  a  fair  presump- 
tion for  the  Tibetans.  But  whether  the  ruler  of 
either,  at  any  particular  time,  was  or  was  not, 
through  bribery  or  fear,  ready  to  lend  his  power  to 
the  ever-growing  British-Indian  Empire,  could  only 
be  surmised. 

The  Goorkhas,  masters  in  Nepal,  were  not  related 
to  the  Tibetans  by  blood  or  religion,  and  were  thus 
the  more  readily  suspected.  When,  in  1854,  Tibet 
was  again  attacked  by  the  Goorkha-Nepalese,  who 
hoped  for  better  luck  than  had  been  met  in  1792, 
the  Chinese  and  the  Tibetans  might  well  suppose 
that  their  neighbours  were  receiving  aid  and  comfort 
from  the  "protecting"  power,  which  particularly 
watches  over  the  foreign  relations  of  its  charges. 


A  Century  of  Irritations          207 

This  war  resulted  more  happily  for  the  attacking 
party  than  the  earlier  effort — probably  because  the 
Taiping  rebellion  interfered  with  the  normal  action 
of  the  Chinese  Government.  When  the  Tibetans 
were  forced  to  make  concessions  of  territory,  they 
may  well  have  deplored  the  increasing  strength  near 
their  borders  of  that  great  power  which  had  humili- 
ated their  Elder  Brother  a  few  years  before,  and 
which  seemed  to  be  supporting  their  younger,  im- 
pulsive brother  in  his  assault  against  their  kingdom 
of  snow.  Following  fast  upon  this  came  the  Anglo- 
French  war  against  China,  terminated  by  a  humiliat- 
ing treaty,  something  of  which  would  be  known  in 
Tibet.  While  China  is  still  suffering  from  the  effect 
of  this  blow,  and  by  a  chance  which  to  the  Tibetans 
might  almost  seem  calculation,  the  British  force  a 
closer  protectorate  over  Sikkim,  following  upon  a 
quarrel  between  the  Sikkimites  and  the  Nepalese, 
already  protected.  The  ruling  family  in  the  little 
mountain  state  had  for  centuries  been  of  the  Tibetan 
nobility  and  had  recognised  a  sort  of  Tibetan  suzer- 
ainty. 

Then,  again,  in  1863,  an  occurrence  at  their  very 
door  must  have  further  frightened  these  secluded 
people.  Bhutan  had  admitted,  years  before,  a  Brit- 
ish Resident ;  otherwise  its  ruler  tried  to  keep  white 
men  out.  When  some  contentions  arose  between 
the  Bhutan  authority  and  neighbouring  states  more 
directly  controlled  by  Calcutta,  an  envoy  was  sent 
to  arrange  the  quarrel.  To  the  discomfiture  of  those 
who  sent  him,  this  officer  made  a  treaty  by  which 
most  of  the  claims  of  Bhutan  were  recognised  and 
certain  territory  was  handed  back  to  it.  This  is  not 


208  Tibet  and  Turkestan 

customary  when  the  lion  is  negotiating  with  the 
lamb.  The  agent  claimed  duress  and  the  treaty 
was  disallowed  by  the  Governor-General,  who  then 
resorted  to  the  more  familiar  and  convincing  argu- 
ments applicable  to  such  cases. 

An  army  was  sent  in,  and  of  course  modern  rifles 
always  enforce  justice  against  matchlocks.  Bhutan 
was  taught  that  an  envoy  could  be  overridden  in 
Calcutta  and  that  the  "  prestige"  of  Great  Britain 
demands  that  the  arguments  of  its  representatives 
shall  always  prevail.  I  think  the  doctrine  true.  It 
often  applied  to  dealings  between  the  United  States 
and  various  Indian  tribes,  but  the  prestige  in  ques- 
tion is  one  for  power — not  always  for  justice,  as 
understood  between  individuals.  It  cannot  be  sup- 
posed that  the  lesson  of  such  an  incident  would  be 
lost  upon  the  Tibetans,  whose  relations  with  the 
Nepalese,  Sikkimites,  and  Bhutanese  have  imme- 
morially  been  closer  than  with  any  other  peoples 
save  the  Chinese. 

Followed  next  ( 1 865  et  seq.}  many  internal  troubles, 
rising  to  the  dignity  of  revolution.  This  serious  dis- 
turbance throve  while  China  was  herself  rent  by  the 
Taiping  rebellion,  which,  in  turn,  was  itself  caused 
(in  large  part)  by  popular  wrath  against  a  dynasty 
that  had  failed  to  repel  the  aggressive  European. 
It  was  about  this  time  that  the  Abb£  Desgodins, 
French  missionary,  was  forced  to  abandon  an  at- 
tempt to  maintain  mission  work  in  Tibet.  He  has 
left  a  most  uncharitable  series  of  letters  to  immor- 
talise his  disappointment.  He  denies  the  pleasant 
description  of  the  Tibetans  given  by  Hue,  who  calls 
them  "frank  and  loyal,"  and  is  hard  pressed  to  find 


A  Century  of  Irritations  209 

enough  ugly  words  for  the  making  of  his  own  de- 
scription. Being  much  piqued  by  his  failure,  and 
being  quite  without  the  historic  sense,  our  good 
Desgodins  falls  to  exaggeration.  The  true  Tibetan 
will  perhaps  be  found  somewhere  between  the  pane- 
gyrics of  Turner  and  Hue  on  the  one  hand  and  the 
maledictions  of  Desgodins  on  the  other.  The  grum- 
bling missionary  scarce  tasted  the  crumbs  of  a  hos- 
pitality which  had  once  provided  full  loaves. 

Perhaps  if  the  Tibetans  could  read  Le  Tibet 
d '  apres  la  correspondance  des  Missionairesy  they 
might  confess  to  present  incivility,  while  pointing 
back  through  the  years  to  show  how  they  had 
treated  the  European  before  their  hearts  were  filled 
with  dread  of  him.  They  had  received  occasional 
Europeans  since  Odoric  de  Pordenone  traversed 
Tibet  on  a  westward  journey  from  China  in  the 
fourteenth  century. 

In  the  seveiateenth  century  two  adventurers  have 
left  trace  of  wanderings  in  this  far  land.  In  the 
eighteenth  century  various  Capuchin  and  Jesuit 
missions — in  one  case  numbering  twelve  persons — 
were  lodged  almost  continuously  in  Lhasa  from 
1708  to  1754;  and  a  Dutch  lay  traveller  lived  there 
during  part  of  the  same  period.  In  181 1,  Manning, 
sole  Englishman  to  make  peaceful  entry,  dwelt  in 
Lhasa,  enjoying  the  kindness  of  the  lamas,  great 
and  small.  Next  came  Fathers  Hue  and  Gabet, 
last  of  Europeans  in  Lhasa  until  the  gates  were 
yesterday  opened  to  the  sound  of  the  insistec4"  ^ifle 
— a  sound  which  has  scarce  ceased  to  startle  ft* 
Hindustani  plains  or  the  Himalayan  valleys  since  the 
field  of  Plassy  (1757)  became  an  empire's  birth-place. 


210  Tibet  and  Turkestan 

This  it  is  that  affrights  them,  this  ever-advancing 
boom  of  cannon,  rattle  of  musketry.  They  have 
cherished  a  tradition  that  the  snow-gods  inhabiting 
the  colossal  seats  of  their  southern  border  would 
protect  them,  against  all  enemies  coming  up  from 
that  region  :  but  the  Goorkha  and  Kashmir  invasions 
brought  a  doubt,  and  now  they  know  that  there  is  a 
people  mightier  than  their  ancestral  gods,  mighty  to 
conquer,  and  mighty,  we  shall  hope,  to  rule  wisely 
and  justly.  It  has  been  increasingly  clear  to  the 
Tibetans  and  to  their  suzerains,  that  only  complete 
exclusion  of  Europeans  would  effectively  preserve 
the  status  quo.  It  was  also  clear  that  their  watch- 
fulness and  rigour  might  be  specially  directed  toward 
the  southern  frontier  (British  Darjeeling  being  only 
twelve  marches  from  Lhasa)  rather  than  toward  the 
north  where  interminable  deserts  stretched  their 
rampart  of  desolation. 

They  had  seen  Nepal,  Sikkim,  Bhutan,  and 
Ladak,  constituting  the  whole  of  their  southern 
and  western  frontier,  pass  under  British  "protec- 
tion," and  recently,  in  1888,  they  had  seen  Sikkim, 
a  little  territory  (2600  square  miles)  wedged  in  be- 
tween Bhutan  and  Nepal,  fall  into  a  much  more 
direct  control  of  the  invaders.  Vainly  had  they 
protested  against  this  last  approach —  for  Sikkim  was 
in  a  sense  Tibetan  territory,  interposing  only  a  two- 
days  sharp  march  between  Darjeeling  and  their  now 
recognised  boundaries.  Protest  took  the  form 
indeed  of  an  army,  a  monkish  rabble  armed  with 
spears,  matchlocks  or  bows,  and  which  wisely  fled 
before  the  organised  destruction  of  British  cannon. 

Then  must  the  Tibetans  have  felt  that  they  were 


A  Century  of  Irritations          211 

justified  three  years  before  (1885)  in  resisting  the 
approach  of  the  "Commercial  Mission,"  the  organi- 
sation and  disruption  of  which,  at  Darjeeling,  caused 
so  much  newspaper  disturbance  and  balked  so  many 
ambitions  that  have  been  bequeathed  to  the  more 
fortunate  personnel  of  the  Younghusband  expedi- 
tion. As  early  as  1876,  in  the  Chefoo  convention 
with  China,  a  treaty  basis  was  laid  for  a  "commer- 
cial mission"  to  Tibet,  the  date  of  the  intended 
expedition  being  indicated  as  "next  year."  But 
this  convention  was  not  fully  ratified  until  1885, 
the  clause  referring  to  the  establishment  of  Tibetan 
relations  sleeping  more  soundly,  perhaps,  than  any 
other. 

When  diplomatic  delays  had  ended,  and  the  signa- 
ture of  Chinese  officials  had  been  subscribed  to  an 
engagement  in  respect  to  passports  and  a  general 
smoothing  of  the  way  for  British  intercourse  with 
Tibet,  there  was  a  gathering  of  men  and  things  at 
Darjeeling.  The  men  were  three  hundred  in  num- 
ber, but  among  all  the  three  hundred,  not  a  commer- 
cial agent.  Was  it  British  humour  which  Parliament, 
the  Chinese  Minister,  and  the  Tsung-li-Yamen  at 
Pekin  heard,  when  the  Under-Secretary  of  State 
for  India,  referring  to  the  leashed  warriors  at  Dar- 
jeeling, said:  "The  object  was  to  confer  with  the 
Chinese  Commissioner  (the  Amban  at  Lhasa)  and 
the  Lhasa  government  as  to  the  resumption  of  com- 
mercial relations  between  India  and  Tibet,"  and  he 
adds,  does  this  saturnine  Under-Secretary,  "look- 
ing to  the  delicate  nature  of  the  mission  it  had  not 
been  thought  wise  to  appoint  a  special  commercial 
representative. ' ' 


212  Tibet  and  Turkestan 

The  grape-vine  telegraph  had  long  ago  reported 
to  Lhasa  the  strange  composition  of  the  innocent 
commercial  mission,  which  was  intended,  by  the 
Chinese  suzerains  who  had  permitted  it,  only  to 
discuss  details  of  trade  relations — of  those  relations 
which  had  been  suspended  since  the  Goorkhas, 
friends  of  the  British,  had  shown  that  conquest,  not 
trade,  was  uppermost  in  their  minds.  Already  the 
Lhasa  authorities  had  felt  a  reasonable  fright — the 
Under-Secretary's  frankness  was  scarce  needed  to 
put  them  on  guard.  So  great  was  the  resistence  in 
Tibet  to  the  incoming  of  such  a  monstrous  miscel- 
lany of  people,  without  a  special  commercial  repre- 
sentative, that  it  was  thought  best  to  abandon  the 
project.  The  mission  was  disbanded.  Its  oganisa- 
tion  was  a  blunder.  To  disband  it  without  making 
a  manly  statement  of  the  original  error  was  another 
blunder.  In  1886  a  new  convention  with  China 
reflected  the  check  by  insertion  of  a  clause  which 
released  China  from  any  positive  engagement  to 
give  Tibetan  passports  and  relegated  the  whole 
matter  to  the  limbo  of  "China  shall  use  her  best 
endeavour,"  or  such  like  empty  generality.  The 
armed  attack  upon  Tibet's  frontiers,  in  1888,  did 
not  fail,  we  may  well  believe,  to  further  convince 
the  Tibetans  that  missions  of  all  sorts  must  be  kept 
out  at  all  hazards. 

This  seizure  of  Sikkim  not  only  completed  the 
white  man's  hold  upon  the  southern  crest  line  of 
the  Himalayas,  but  it  gave  control  of  the  easiest 
roadway  over  the  mountains,  down  into  the  Chumbi 
valley.  That  the  trap  should  be  sprung  in  due 
course  of  time  was  obvious  enough.  Something 


A  Century  of  Irritations          213 

must  arise  which  should  again  force  that  expansion 
of  empire  which  English  historians  (and  latterly 
American  apologists  also)  virtuously  deplore.  The 
way  was  now  prepared  for  the  self-sacrificing  ad- 
vance. It  was,  then,  in  a  moment  of  fatal  digres- 
sion from  a  traditional  policy  of  non-intercourse, 
that  the  Dalai  Lama,  a  few  years  ago,  sent  presents 
to  the  Czar,  thus  "offending"  the  British  Govern- 
ment and  giving  Lord  Curzon  argument  with  which 
to  partially  satisfy  the  Exeter  Hall  conscience  of 
his  nation.  We  are  now  brought  to  a  consideration 
of  recent  events. 


CHAPTER  XVII 

CHASTENING       OF      HERBERT     SPENCER  —  BRITISH 
POLICY  —  CONTEST    FOR    A    BARE   BONE- 
PRESENT  POLITICAL  SITUATION 

HERBERT  SPENCER  (Principles  of  Sociology, 
p.  584;  D.  A.  &  Co.,  1897)  delivers  himself, 
rather  intemperately,  I  think,  as  follows : 

"  If,  in  our  days,  the  name  '  birds  of  prey  and  of  pass- 
age,' which  Burke  gave  to  the  English  in  India  at  the 
time  of  Warren  Hasting's  trial,  when  auditors  wept  at 
the  account  of  the  cruelties  committed,  is  not  applicable 
as  it  was  then;  yet  the  policy  of  unscrupulous  aggran- 
disement continues.  As  remarked  by  an  Indian  officer, 
Deputy  Surgeon-General  Paske,  all  our  conquests  and 
annexations  are  made  from  base  and  selfish  motives 
alone.  Major  Raverty,  of  the  Bombay  army,  condemns 
'  the  rage  shown  of  late  years  for  seizing  what  does  not 
and  never  did  belong  to  us,  because  the  people  happen 
to  be  weak  and  very  poorly  armed,  while  we  are  strong 
and  provided  with  the  most  excellent  weapons. '  Resist- 
ance to  an  intruding  sportsman  or  a  bullying  explorer, 
or  disobedience  to  a  resident,  or  even  refusal  to  furnish 
transport-coolies,  serves  as  sufficient  excuse  for  attack, 
conquest,  and  annexation.  Everywhere  the  usual  suc- 
cession runs  thus:  Missionaries,  envoys  to  native  rulers, 
concessions  made  by  them,  quarrels  with  them,  invasions 
of  them,  appropriations  of  their  territory.  First  men  are 

214 


Chastening  of  Herbert  Spencer    215 

sent  to  teach  the  heathens  Christianity,  and  then  Christ- 
ians are  sent  to  mow  them  down  with  machine-guns! 
So-called  savages  who,  according  to  numerous  travellers, 
behave  well  until  they  are  ill-treated,  are  taught  good 
conduct  by  the  so-called  civilised,  who  presently  sub- 
jugate them — who  inculcate  rectitude  and  then  illustrate 
it  by  seizing  their  lands. 

"The  policy  is  simple  and  uniform  —  Bibles  first, 
bomb- shells  after.  Such  being  the  doings  abroad,  what 
are  the  feelings  at  home?  Honours,  titles,  emoluments 
are  showered  on  the  aggressors.  A  traveller  who  makes 
light  of  men's  lives  is  regarded  as  a  hero  and  feted  by 
the  upper  classes;  while  the  lower  classes  give  an  ovation 
to  a  leader  of  fillibusters.  '  British  power, '  '  British 
pluck,'  'British  interests,'  are  words  on  every  tongue; 
but  of  justice  there  is  no  speech,  no  thought." 

Viewing  the  eminence  of  the  authority  just 
quoted,  it  may  seem  bold  to  endeavour  a  recast  of 
the  philosophical  setting  in  which  historical  critic- 
ism should  be  placed.  But  Spencer's  tone,  in  the 
paragraph  above,  seems  rather  that  of  an  angry 
Isaiah  than  of  a  scholarly  determinist.  Let  me 
therefore  endeavour  to  clothe  the  nakedness  of  his 
condemnations— while  averring  that  the  program 
outlined  in  the  excerpt  seems  to  have  been  closely 
followed  in  British  Tibetan  events. 

There  is  in  the  universe  but  one  Will  (or  self- 
existent  law).  It  has  expressed  itself  to  us  in  the 
hateful  tempests  of  Nero's  soul,  not  less  than  in 
the  ineffable  happiness  of  accomplished  sacrifice  on 
the  cross ;  in  the  fury  of  Attila,  not  less  than  in  the 
wrapt  ecstasy  of  Gautama  under  the  Bo  tree;  in 
the  turning  of  this  leaf  by  you,  O  law-governed 


2i6  Tibet  and  Turkestan 

reader,  not  less  than  in  the  sweep  of  a  solar  system 
through  unmeasured  space;  in  every  evil,  not  less 
than  in  every  good.  Such  is  my  belief.  If  then 
the  British  power,  ruthless,  shall  complete  its 
destruction  and  construction  in  Tibet,  then  this 
ruthless  act  shall  have  demonstrated  its  necessity 
in  the  general  scheme  of  things.  Why  preach  about 
it,  then?  I  do  not  know  why,  the  ultimate  why. 
But  this  preaching  is  also  compelled ;  it  is  an  effort 
toward  something  desired. 

As  to  the  application  of  adjectives  such  as 
"unjust,"  "unwarranted,"  "cruel,"  "unnatural," 
and  the  like,  to  any  act  of  individual  or  government, 
with  the  seeming  intent  to  condemn,  as  one  con- 
demns who  believes  in  individual  free-will;  concern- 
ing this,  it  must  be  explained  that  the  determinist 
finds  his  tongue  taught  certain  tricks  in  childhood. 
He  cannot  easily  lay  them  aside.  Language  has 
been  formed  chiefly  by  those  who  have  been  made 
to  believe,  among  many  other  errors,  that  concern- 
ing the  freedom  of  the  will.  The  words  "sunrise" 
and  "unnatural"  spring  equally  from  erroneous 
belief,  which  it  pleased  the  Power  to  create.  The 
sun  does  not  "rise"  and  nothing  is  "unnatural." 
When  the  determinist  condemns  and  executes  for 
murder,  his  position  toward  the  murderer  is  this: 
"You  have  been  brought  to  kill  a  man  under  such 
and  such  conditions.  I  have  been  brought  to 
believe  such  an  act  as  directly  or  indirectly  harmful 
to  me ;  I  have  been  brought  to  believe  it  now  to  my 
interest  to  kill  you.  We  are  both  acting  under  law, 
no  man  or  beast  can  act  otherwise."  Now  if  the 
determinist  stands  quite  alone  in  his  condemnation 


Chastening  of  Herbert  Spencer    217 

and  execution  of  the  other  man,  we  call  his  act  priv- 
ate revenge  or  justifiable  homicide,  etc.  If  he  is 
acting  with  many  others,  through  organised  instru- 
ments, we  call  this  united  action,  "public  justice." 

The  difference  between  condemnation  made  by 
him  who  thus  recognises  the  universal  force  of  one 
Power,  from  that  made  by  him  who  thinks  he 
believes  in  many  wills,  lies  chiefly  within  the 
respective  breasts  of  the  critics.  In  the  first  case, 
there  cannot  exist  anything  of  bitterness;  in  the 
second  it  may  exist.  Having  thus  by  a  little  dis- 
cursive philosophising  taken  away  the  sting  from 
my  quarrel  with  British-Tibetan  policy,  lest  the 
Government  die  of  it,  we  may  set  ourselves  to  an 
inquiry  into  this  most  interesting  and  important 
question. 

As  the  brute  power  to  execute  its  will  against 
Tibet  undoubtedly  exists  in  the  British  Govern- 
ment, it  is  important  to  determine  what  are  the 
motives  actuating  British  policy.  The  question  is 
not  stated  because  of  a  conviction  that  national 
policies  are  always  clearly  conceived  and  systemati- 
cally followed  by  any  government.  Generally  this 
is  not  the  case;  haphazard  and  awkwardness  proba- 
bly play  a  larger  part  in  the  affairs  of  state  than 
they  do  in  the  affairs  of  John  Smith.  Yet  in  the 
case  we  now  consider,  the  territory  in  question  lies 
so  far  beyond  the  world's  general  movement  that 
the  existence  of  any  policy  whatever,  in  its  regard, 
would  suggest  that  such  a  policy  must  have  definite 
beginnings  and  direction. 

If  we  turn  to  the  past — to  the  spectacular  days  of 
Warren  Hastings,  we  need  not  hesitate  to  interpret 


218  Tibet  and  Turkestan 

his  outreachings  toward  Tibet  as  being  merely  part 
of  the  luxurious  growth  of  a  marvellously  rich 
mind,  fertilised  by  ambition,  heated  by  the  sun  of 
success.  That  something  great  might  be  found 
among  the  Himalayan  summits,  was  enough  to  set 
his  imagination  aflame,  and  in  his  strong  nature, 
action  followed  close  the  heels  of  fancy.  We  may 
safely  vault  from  his  day  almost  a  hundred  years  of 
Indian  history,  before  finding  events  which  could 
seriously  fix  responsible  minds  upon  the  Tibetan 
problem.  Within  those  years,  and  since  France 
withdrew  from  the  fields  where  her  genius  had 
blazed  the  way  for  England's  power,  that  power 
had  been  extended  over  three  classes  of  territories. 
First  are  the  lowlands — wide-spreading,  populous, 
easily  subdued,  rich  (relatively)  in  commercial  op- 
portunity and  in  state-revenue  payment.  Here 
the  motive  for  conquests  is  not  far  to  seek;  they 
were  made  by  a  commercial  company.  Next  come 
the  first  tier  of  mountain  states,  difficult  to  conquer, 
more  expensive  to  administer  (relatively)  and  not  in 
themselves  rich  in  returns  of  any  kind,  save  military 
glory  in  the  first  days  of  blood.  They  were  dis- 
turbers of  the  border  peace,  and  it  seemed  cheaper 
to  subdue  and  rule  them,  than  to  forefend  at  the 
frontier.  Last  come  the  outpost  countries  of  the 
Himalayan  region,  valueless  as  commercial  fields, 
not  dangerous  to  their  equally  valiant  and  better 
organised  neighbours  of  the  first  tier  of  mountain 
states.  The  sole  motive  for  their  conquest  lies  in 
the  fear  of  Russia,  the  power  which,  in  Hastings's 
day,  lay  so  far  to  the  north  that  it  was  not  within 
the  range  of  "practical  politics." 


2 
•§ 


I 


Chastening  of  Herbert  Spencer    219 

Whether  or  not  the  Russians,  by  attacking  India, 
would  ever  bring  upon  the  world  the  most  appalling 
calamity  which  could  befall  it  as  an  outgrowth  of 
present  international  jealousies,  we  may  not  know. 
That  reasonable  precaution  should  be  taken  even 
against  this  improbable  atrocity,  no  responsible 
officer  would  doubt.  But  there  has  been  wide 
difference  of  view  among  enlightened  English  states- 
men— not  all  of  them  stay-at-homes  either — as  to 
the  wisdom  of  constantly  advancing  and  lengthen- 
ing a  frontier  whose  character  is  now  frankly  mili- 
tary. It  has  been  strongly  argued  that  strategical 
advantage  lay  in  the  way  of  leaving, upon  an  enemy 
the  burden  of  approaching  over  long  lines "which 
are  among  the  most  difficult  known  in  the  world. 
Even  if  the  natives  be  more  or  less  friendly  to  an 
advancing  European  army,  yet  the  natural  obstacles 
remain  to  wear  away  the  force  of  the  intended 
blow.  "Let  us  meet  such  an  onset,"  say  the  ad- 
vocates of  this  policy,  "on  a  shorter  front,  drawn 
within  countries  which  are  self-supporting,  and  near 
to  the  great  rich  plains  which  are  the  only  regions 
worthy,  in  themselves,  of  permanent  occupation. 
Let  us  at  least  await  the  attempted  seizure  of  the 
unprofitable  border-lands  by  our  northern  rival ;  let 
us  await  some  clearer  evidence  of  Russia's  intent 
to  dethrone  us,  before  spending  the  treasure  of 
our  subject-races,  their  bodies,  and  some  precious 
lives  of  our  own  people  in  the  conquest  of  barren 
mountains. 

"If  the  attack  is  being  prepared,  it  cannot  be  done 
in  a  day  or  a  week  or  a  month ;  the  sudden  foray  of 
the  mountain  wolves  against  the  defenceless  lamb 


220  Tibet  and  Turkestan 

of  the  plain  is  no  longer  possible,  for  to  the  lamb 
also  we  have  given  fangs  and  his  bloody  claws.  If 
we  hold  only  the  first  tier  of  hill-lands,  we  shall  be 
able  to  destroy  any  incoming  foe,  or  even  to  ad- 
vance, meeting  him.  For  are  we  not  as  intelligent, 
as  quick  as  he?  Are  we  not  able,  with  a  tithe  of 
the  money  spent  in  conquest  and  occupation,  to  buy 
for  ourselves  information  and  interested  loyalty 
—  loyalty  of  the  only  sort  upon  which  we  can 
count  in  playing  our  role  of  Foreign  Tyranny?" 

But  these  arguments  have  not  prevailed.  Re- 
joinder has  been  made  that  in  general  it  is  best  to 
hold  the  highest  passes  rather  than  to  await  the 
enemy  somewhat  lower  down ;  that  his  presence  in 
the  border  lands,  uncontrolled,  might  result  in  stir- 
ring up  of  revolt  among  the  plainsmen,  this  being  a 
possible  program  as  full  of  danger  as  one  of  open 
war;  that  the  valleys  have,  since  time  was,  been 
conquered  from  the  northern  hills,  until  British 
ships  and  gunpowder  opened  a  new  way  from  the 
coast.  Yet,  now  the  northern  danger  may  recur. 
There  has  been  added  to  these  arguments  the  prod 
of  restless  military  spirit  in  the  army  of  occupation. 
Very  important  is  this  ambition  in  making  the 
character  of  a  soldiery ;  very  dangerous  also  to  the 
world's  peace.  For  quarrel-making  there  has  been 
the  time-honoured  question  of  boundary  lines  in 
rough  country.  Even  with  most  pacific  intent  on 
both  sides,  there  must  be  frequent  misunderstand- 
ings as  to  frontiers  in  the  wild,  almost  unknown 
regions  of  towering  peak  and  winding  ravine  where 
is  played  the  game  of  Himalayan  politics.  When 
on  one  side  is  the  delicate  pride  of  a  conquering 


Chastening  of  Herbert  Spencer    221 

race,  on  the  other  the  outraged  sensibilities  of  war- 
like, ignorant  tribes,  it  is  obvious  that  a  big  crop 
of  V.C. 's  and  D.S.O.'s  must  be  the  result. 

It  is  just  a  little  pathetic,  this  thought  that  in  the 
world  of  printed  history,  each  such  quarrel,  with  its 
attending  tragedies,  is  reported  as  "an  unwarranted 
attack  upon  British  territory,"  or  again  "a  maraud- 
ing expedition  boldly  projecting  itself  over  our 
frontier."  We  shall  never  know  how  cruelly  exas- 
perating it  must  be  to  the  disinherited — this  seizure, 
on  paper,  of  unmarked  lands  to-day,  the  outcry  of 
injured  sovereignty  to-morrow,  the  hastening  of  the 
"punitive  column"  the  third  day,  fresh  seizure  of 
unmarked  lands  the  fourth  day,  and  so  on  ad 
infinitum. 

The  algebraic  sum  of  all  the  soliciting  forces  has 
been  in  the  direction  of  advance — west,  north,  east 
— ever  advance.  Baluchistan  has  been  conquered 
and  held  ;  Afghanistan  has  been  marauded  piteously 
in  two  campaigns  emblazoned  with  death,  heroism, 
and  decorations,  but  the  bold  and  crafty  Afghans 
could  not  be  subjected ;  the  Chitral  and  the  empty 
Pamirs  have  been  sentinelled;  the  uncouth  Baltis 
have  been  punished  and  controlled ;  pacific  Ladak 
remains  an  outpost  of  empire,  though  in  a  Mahar- 
ajah's name;  Nepal,  Sikkim,  and  Bhutan  have  been 
forced  to  obey  orders  from  Calcutta,  and  now, 
because  a  Bhuriat  from  far-away  Lake  Baikal  has 
taken  photographs  in  Lhasa  and  seduced  the  Dalai 
Lama  into  the  courtesy  of  gift-making  to  the  Czar, 
lo !  Tibet  is  visited  with  the  hot  breath  of  war — 
and  a  thousand  skeletons  testify  to  the  prowess  of 
the  white  man ;  to  the  glory  of  Christ  and  to  the 


222  Tibet  and  Turkestan 

satisfaction  of  the  ghoulish  dogs  whose  bellies  are 
the  tombs  of  Tibetan  dead. 

It  is  harrowing.  Yet  after  all,  death  is  for  all ; 
the  cutting  off  of  even  ten  thousand  shepherds  at 
an  average  of  say  fifteen  years  before  disease  and 
age  would  claim  them,  is  not  a  large  sacrifice  for 
humanity  to  make  in  keeping  an  empire's  peace. 
But  the  sacrifice  would  not  end  with  the  death- 
rattle  in  ten  thousand  throats.  There  would  be, 
yea,  to-day  there  is,  and  for  many  morrows  there 
will  be,  bitterness  in  a  million  hearts.  That  is  evil ; 
not  measurable,  but  great.  And  there  is,  beyond 
all  else,  a  wounding  of  ideals  all  the  world  over — 
unless  it  be  very  clear  to  the  world  that  some 
greater  evil  has  been  foref ended,  or  some  great 
good  established  by  the  myriad  rotting  corpses, 
and  that  reasonable  inquiry  found  no  other  protec- 
tion from  the  evil,  no  other  instrument  for  the  good 
than  in  the  killing  of  many  innocent  men.  That, 
indeed,  is  the  crux  of  the  matter.  Given  the  possi- 
bility of  Russian  desire  to  attack  the  British-Indian 
establishment,  we  must  question  then  the  amount 
of  harm  that  might  reach  English  interests  if  Tibet 
had  been  left  in  her  isolation. 

Two  lines  of  effort  would  be  considered  by  the 
Russians,  if  in  any  way  Tibetan  territory  were  to 
be  used  in  the  game.  The  first  would  be  by  military 
occupation,  with  the  view  of  descending  upon  India 
from  Tibet;  and  the  second  would  be  by  stirring 
up,  through  intrigue,  the  Tibetans,  in  coalition 
with  the  Nepalese  or  Bhutanese,  to  strive  unaided 
against  the  British  power.  To  accomplish  the  first, 
Russia  must  have  forced  or  cajoled  the  Chinese 


Chastening  of  Herbert  Spencer   223 

Government  to  give  up  two  provinces,  Turkestan 
and  Tibet,  since  an  advance  (assuming  it  physic- 
ally possible  to  reach  Lhasa  with  an  army  from  the 
north)  must  be  over  Chinese  territory.  It  is  obvious 
that  such  an  effort  by  Russia,  in  the  face  of  known 
opposition  in  England  and  America  against  the 
disintegration  of  China,  would  be  attempted  only 
as  part,  and  the  last  part,  of  some  great  program 
of  an  international  war  of  the  first  magnitude.  In 
such  case  no  conduct  of  Russian  affairs,  short  of 
one  headquartered  in  an  insane  asylum,  would 
squander  upon  the  Tibetan  plateau  forces  urgently 
needed  elsewhere. 

So  terrible  are  the  obstacles  placed  there  by 
nature,  that  the  Chinese  strength,  small  as  it  is, 
would  be  more  than  sufficient  to  stop  an  army 
moving  toward  Lhasa,  from  the  difficult  north, 
and  would  be,  if  friendly  to  Russia,  wholly  power- 
less as  against  British  force,  moving  from  the  easy 
south.  Those  who  were  impressed,  in  a  vague  way, 
by  the  long  delays  of  the  Younghusband  expedi- 
tion, with  the  view  that  the  military  operations  were 
difficult,  must  yield  that  opinion  to  the  facts.  It 
was  diplomacy,  not  strategy,  which  ate  up  the  long 
months,  which  gave  the  Tibetans  ample  time  to 
prepare  a  resistance  doomed  to  be  of  the  opera 
bouffe  kind,  and  which  aggravated  greatly  the 
problem  of  supplies  for  the  British  force. 

Imagine  a  single  company  of  Cossacks,  known  or 
reasonably  supposed  to  be  actually  on  the  plateau, 
and  you  may  at  once  imagine  Lhasa  reached, 
conquered,  and  destroyed  by  the  British  within 
two  weeks  from  the  time  a  column  should  leave 


224  Tibet  and  Turkestan 

Darjeeling.  On  the  other  hand,  imagine  Russian 
columns  starting  from  Osh  or  Irkutsk,  even  with  a 
suppliant  court  in  Pekin,  and  you  may  imagine  time 
for  British  agents  to  spread  the  news  across  desert 
and  ocean,  time  for  British  concentration  at  Darjeel- 
ing, time  for  the  sack  of  Lhasa,  all  before  a  rem- 
nant of  the  devoted  Cossacks  should  have  time  to 
struggle  into  the  valley  of  Tsang-po,  asking  but  one 
boon  of  the  British — to  be  captured  and  fed. 

This  enormous  difference  in  the  physical  relations 
of  Tibet  toward  the  north  and  toward  the  south,  is 
a  vital  fact  in  the  consideration  of  the  probable 
complications.  That  the  view  here  expressed  is  not 
a  peculiar  one,  appears  from  the  familiar  recitals  of 
distress  experienced  by  all  the  explorers,  with  their 
small  and  specially  equipped  caravans.  As  shown 
in  one  of  the  appendices,1  it  is  moreover  a  view  held 
by  some  distinguished  and  expert  British  authorities. 
But  let  us  suppose  the  incredible  to  have  been  ac- 
complished ;  that  the  supine  Lion  has  permitted  the 
outrageous  Bear  to  hibernate  in  Lhasa's  monas- 
teries, and  that  the  whole  world  has  definitely 
yielded  the  "Chinese  integrity"  policy, — a  supposi- 
tion which  involves  satisfaction  of  enormous  appe- 
tites by  a  wholesale  cutting  up  of  the  Chinese  body, 
wrongly  supposed  to  be  a  dead  carcass. 

Russia  can  get  no  substantial  benefit  out  of 
Tibetan  occupation  per  se.  She  would  find  it  ex- 
ceedingly difficult  —  impossible,  I  think,  to  hold 
Lhasa  against  any  Tibetan  liberating  effort.  Rus- 
sian soldiers  must  be  fed,  and  only  constant  physical 
pressure  at  the  centre  would  bring  in  food  from 

1  See  discussion  of  paper  read  before  R.  G.  S.,  February  8,  1904. 


Chastening  of  Herbert  Spencer   225 

Tibetan  fields.  Substantially  the  whole  force 
would  be  rendered  impotent  for  offence  by  the 
requirements  of  the  commissary  department.  So 
narrow  is  the  present  margin  of  food-supply,  so 
impossible  the  import  of  food  from  the  north,  that 
every  augmentation  of  numbers  attempted  by  an 
occupying  power  would  only  increase  the  difficulty 
of  maintenance.  But  let  us  further  suppose  the 
incredible.  Imagine,  then,  a  small  band  of  surviving 
Russians,  who  shall  have  committed  such  frightful 
slaughter  as  to  paralyse  the  faculties  of  the  lamas, 
preventing  them  from  offering  even  the  Quaker 
resistance  of  the  English  nonconformist  to  irritating 
school-rates.  Imagine  some  of  them  enrolled  be- 
hind Russian  leaders  and  newly  learned  in  the  art 
of  firing  Russian  rifles.  Now  they  must  be  pro- 
jected against,  nay,  through,  Bhutan,  Sikkim,  or 
Nepal.  In  the  nature  of  the  case,  the  Europeans 
are  but  a  handful,  and  the  natives  are  but  a  rabble, 
and  the  ammunition-supply  is  small  and  the  food- 
supply  precarious.  It  would  be  wearisome  to  try, 
in  these  pages,  the  chances  of  every  pass  by  which 
they  might  graze  the  crest  of  the  Himalayas. 

I  appeal  for  justification  to  every  British  officer 
in  whose  breast  burns  even  a  spark  of  the  old  flame, 
when  I  say  that  not  a  single  man  of  such  an  invad- 
ing force  would  ever  reach  the  soil  of  India  proper. 
The  Himalayas  would  swallow  them ;  the  place  of 
their  graves  need  never  be  known  save  to  the  Brit- 
ish-led Sikhs  and  the  Goorkhas  who  would  have 
killed  them.  And  if  this  be  not  true,  then  the 
emasculated  Briton  should  render  to  Caesar  the 

things  that  are  Caesar's,  for  Caesar  is  ever  enthroned 
15 


226  Tibet  and  Turkestan 

Strength.  And  it  must  be  borne  in  mind  that  such 
a  series  of  incredible  events  cannot  be  supposed  to 
be  isolated.  Russia  cannot  issue  from  the  Hima- 
layan passes  except  when  war  shall  wrap  the  world 
around.  And  I  say,  if  she  should,  the  diversion  of 
strength  necessary  to  produce  even  the  wretched 
tragedy  in  which  her  effort  must  end,  would  be  a 
play  for  England's  benefit ;  worse  than  futile,  as  all 
madhouse  work,  in  the  end,  must  be,  when  in  con- 
test with  sane  purpose. 

But  let  us  now  suppose  that  possession  of  Tibet 
(for  nothing  less  than  possession  consists  with  the 
efficacy  of  Clause  IX.  of  the  Younghusband  treaty) 
is  deemed  necessary  as  against  mere  intrigue  by 
Russian  agents.  That  it  may  be  anything  more 
than  child's  play,  this  intrigue  must  bear  fruit  of 
action,  eventually  of  war  or  threat  of  war,  against 
British  power.  To  do  this,  its  effects  must  leap  the 
Himalayas,  those  great  barriers  which  now  are  made 
higher  than  nature  would  have  them,  by  the  fears 
of  the  Tibetans.  The,  intrigue,  then,  must  be  ef- 
fective to  reverse  their  policy  of  isolation — against 
which  the  British  complain ;  it  must  cause  the 
Goorkhas,  now  shut  out  from  Tibet,  to  take  up 
arms  against  the  Indian  Empire,  in  alliance  with 
— how  ludicrous  it  all  is! — in  alliance  with  the 
poor  creatures  whom  the  British  word  of  command 
has  just  shot  down  as  one  would  kill  sheep  in  a 
crowded  fold. 

And  these  who  are  to  set  the  Goorkhas  on  fire  are 
not  of  their  creed  or  of  their  blood,  nor  of  the  creed 
or  blood  of  any  of  the  great  races  of  India.  By  the 
adoption  of  a  religion  which  India  rejected,  Tibet 


I 


Chastening  of  Herbert  Spencer    227 

has  added  a  barrier  of  sentiment  to  one  of  stone 
and  ice,  rising  between  her  wastes  and  the  wide 
fields  which  England  governs.  The  case  is  alto- 
gether different  from  that  presented  along  the 
Afghan  frontier,  which  has  seen  at  least  two  great 
waves  of  conquest,  moral  and  physical,  rolling 
southward,  and  leaving,  as  permanent  deposit,  the 
richest  strata  of  Indian  life.  Tibet,  on  the  other 
hand,  is  like  a  distant  shore  that  occasionally  felt 
the  last  movement  of  a  wave  of  thought  or  action, 
already  spent  as  it  reaches  the  Himalayan  crest. 
To  think  of  such  a  country  as  the  lair  of  some  great 
coiled  danger  ready  to  spring,  is  indeed  to  "see 
snakes."  And  to  set  in  motion  this  second  incredi- 
ble series  of  events  we  have  now  to  substitute  for 
the  supposed  directive  force  of  Russian  intelligence 
and  arms,  the  mere  promises,  cajoleries,  and  decep- 
tions of  Buriat  spies,  talking  of  their  temporal  to 
their  spiritual  master,  and  promising  what? 

The  only  thing  which  can  be  conceived  as  appeal- 
ing to  the  Tibetan  mind,  would  be  protection  against 
the  aggression  of  the  English.  Yes,  already  enough 
had  been  done  to  fill  the  lamas  with  just  fears,  be- 
fore the  presents  were  unhappily  sent  to  the  Czar, 
before  the  convincing  blow  came  upon  them  in  the 
summer  of  1904. 


CHAPTER  XVIII 

THE     WOLF    AND     THE     LAMB  —  COMMERCIAL 

CONVENTIONS  AND   CHRIST'S   CODE— 

WHAT   IS   THE    RIGHT  ? 

THE  argument  of  the  play  is,  then,  something 
like  this :  By  a  century  of  conquest  stretching 
gradually  up  to  the  high  door-sills  of  Tibet,  by  a 
century  of  aggression  against  the  Tibetan  suzerain, 
the  British  have  closed  the  once  open  door  of 
Lhasa,  and  have  implanted  a  general  fear  of  their 
presence  in  every  Tibetan  mind  which  is  capable  of 
understanding  something  of  the  outer  world ;  then 
comes  a  co-religionist  who  succeeds  in  having  the 
Tibetan  religious  chief  send  presents  to  the  ruler 
who  is  in  temporal  power  over  the  visiting  pilgrim. 
They  are  sent,  obviously,  because  asked  for  by  an 
interested  intermediary.  A  similar  mission  might 
easily  have  been  arranged  by  British  influence  acting 
upon  some  clever  lamaist  of  Ladak,  who  could 
have  tested  the  Dalai  Lama's  attitude  by  request- 
ing through  the  Chinese  exchange  of  presents  with 
his  distant  liege,  King  Edward,  even  as  had  been 
granted  to  the  Buriat.  But  this  was  not  done. 
And  if  these  were  not  thought  dependable,  there 
are  the  Kashmiri  merchants  long  established  in 
Lhasa,  giving  Great  Britain  a  far  more  permanent 
contact,  through  her  intelligent  subjects,  than 

228 


The  Wolf  and  the  Lamb         229 

Russia  has  through  the  Buriats  and  Kalmucks ;  yet 
nothing  of  the  sort  was  attempted  after  the  Buriat 
incident.1  Hence  it  is  not  known  that  the  Dalai 
Lama  would  have  in  any  way  distinguished  by  an 
unequal  courtesy  the  two  European  monarchs  who 
hold  sway  over  some  of  his  spiritual  following. 

No  evidence,  then,  of  favouritism  toward  Russia 
is  adduced,  nor  has  any  evidence  been  found  of 
material  support  from  that  power  in  the  way  of  men 
or  arms,  even  now  that  English  officers  have  shot  their 
unwelcome  way  into  the  sanctuary  of  a  poor  people. 
Nothing  is  reported  but  vague,  one-sided  statements 
that  some  Tibetans  rely  upon  "another  power"  to 
protect  them — always,  there  is  nothing  but  that — 
and  on  shadowy  evidence  that  the  Tibetans  have 
only  listened  to  some  one  who  might  have  given 
promise  of  aid  in  case  of  British  attack — lo !  that  is 
made  a  reason,  gravely  alleged  among  adults,  in 
State  dispatches,  for  making  the  attack  /  a  Truly  we 
are  all,  au  fond,  only  barbarians — children ;  for  when 
this  supreme  example  of  wolfish  displeasure  with 
the  down-stream  lamb  is  held  before  us,  let  us  not 
forget  that  it  is  given  to  the  world  by  a  people  who, 
in  a  thousand  ways,  represent  the  highest  work  of 
Christian  civilisation,  whose  individual  officers,  the 
very  men  engaged  in  the  butchery  of  helpless  beings 
fighting  for  their  elementary  rights,  are  cultivated, 

1  The  attempts  at  direct  correspondence  with  the  Dalai  Lama, 
made  through  badly  chosen  agents,  and  not  through  the  Chinese 
officials,  are  referred  to  in  the  Appendix  J.  The  Dalai  Lama 
had  reason  to  fear  the  results  of  any  intercourse  not  authorised  by 
the  Chinese,  who  retained  control  of  all  foreign  relations.  For  a 
parallel  case  as  between  the  British  and  one  of  their  vassals,  see 
Appendix  E.  2  See  Appendix  L. 


230  Tibet  and  Turkestan 

attractive,  honourable  in  ail  private  intercourse; 
yet  prostituting,  as  you  and  I  may  do  to-morrow, 
the  magic  power  of  the  telegraph  and  the  printing- 
press  for  spreading  abroad  and  perpetuating  such 
crude  nonsense  as  may  be  read  by  any  one  who 
takes  even  the  blue-book  side  of  the  Tibetan  story, 
beginning  with  the  "Commercial  Mission"  of  1885 
and  ending  with  the  "Negotiating  Mission"  of  1904. 
The  first  was  a  harmless  fiasco,  the  second  a  tragedy, 
with  possibilities  of  becoming  a  fiasco.  It  was 
organised  to  prevent  Russian  interference.  Lord 
Curzon  has  not  yet  disclosed  any  reasonable  ground 
for  supposing  Russia  had  endeavoured  in  Tibet  any 
acts  unfriendly  to  British-Indian  interests.  But  he 
feared  they  might.  This  reason  for  the  bold  step 
is  openly  enough  alleged  in  the  correspondence.  It 
was  even  more  frankly  admitted  by  every  intelligent 
discussion  of  the  subject,  particularly  in  the  admin- 
istrative columns  of  the  London  Times.  For  accur- 
acy's sake,  however,  it  is  well  to  record  the  other 
alleged  motives,  though  if  the  historian,  like  the 
judge,  may  adopt  as  a  maxim,  de  minimis  non  curat 
lex,  then  all  the  other  incidents  might  be  passed  in 
silence.  After  the  Tibetans  had  been  forced  back 
from  the  Sikkim  frontier  in  1888,  it  became  prudent 
to  have  some  precise  demarcation  of  boundary  lines, 
as  nobody  in  London  or  Calcutta  seems  to  have  been 
prepared  just  then  for  forward  movement,  nor  had 
any  occasion  been  given  which  could  be  thrown  to 
Little  Englanders  (i.  e.,  those  who  declare  for  ethics 
of  the  individual  in  national  affairs)  as  an  excuse  for 
following  the  extremist  policy  of  empire-stretching. 
Therefore  in  1890  a  convention  was  drawn  be- 


The  Wolf  and  the  Lamb         231 

tween  British  officials  on  the  one  hand  and  a  mixed 
commission  of  Chinese  and  Tibetans  on  the  other. 
The  meetings  were  held  near  the  frontier  line,  as 
tentatively  agreed  upon.  Provision  was  not  spe- 
cifically made  for  erecting  monuments  along  a  line 
which,  in  the  nature  of  the  case,  defied  accurate 
description.1  Recognition  was  had  also  of  the  fact 
that  shepherds  had  from  time  immemorial  wandered 
back  and  forth  over  all  these  imaginary  frontiers, 
nor  does  it  appear  that  trouble  had  arisen  until  arose 
the  British  insistence  upon  strict  definition  where 
definition  is  substantially  impossible.  Provision 
was  also  made,  though  this  was  opposed  by  the 
Tibetans,  for  the  establishment  of  a  mart,  north  of 
the  frontier,  to  which  Indian  traders  might  have 
access,  and  in  which  the  traffic  was  to  be  subjected 
only  to  limited  burdens  of  tax. 

The  Chinese  officials  finally  consented  to  co- 
operate with  British  agents  in  erecting  monuments. 
Several  years  of  delay  in  this  respect  dragged  on, 
and  finally  the  monuments  were  set  up  by  British 
officials  acting  alone.  It  was  susbequently  charged 
that  some  of  these  had  been  knocked  down  by 
Tibetans.  As  their  location  was  determined  only 
by  their  enemies,  and  as  they  were  of  no  value  save 
to  give  further  occasion  for  offence  in  the  heretofore 
careless  movement  of  a  few  shepherds  over  a  deso- 
late country,  one  may  understand  such  a  proceeding. 
We  of  course  have  no  way  of  accurately  learning 
the  Tibetan  view  of  any  of  these  events.  There 
was  also  charge  of  delay  in  making  the  necessary  ar- 
rangements for  the  market-place  at  Yatung,  though 
1  See  Appendix  E. 


232  Tibet  and  Turkestan 

little  was  needed,  if  the  Indian  traders  chose  to 
present  themselves  at  a  known  spot  in  a  desert 
and  take  chances  of  selling  their  goods.  That 
those  who  do  not  want  to  buy  your  goods  shall 
be  forced  to  build  your  storehouses  and  your 
temporary  dwelling-places  and  establish  means  of 
supplying  you  with  food — that  is  hard.  Among 
people  of  nearly  equal  strength  it  would  be  called 
outrageous. 

The  Tibetans  were  opposed  to  contact  of  any  sort, 
as  it  is  probable  that  through  Chinese  channels  they 
already  knew  of  the  success  of  various  disguised 
surveyors,  in  the  service  of  Calcutta,  who  had  pene- 
trated their  country  in  many  directions,  even  to 
Lhasa's  self,  and  had  carefully  mapped  its  roads, 
mountains,  and  towns  and  rivers.  Such  maps  are 
precious  to  the  scientific  geographer  and  to  the 
thoughtful  warrior.  The  difficulty  of  protecting 
themselves  even  by  theoretical  non- intercourse  is 
great:  they  might  well  consider  the  task  hopeless 
if  various  traders  were  to  be  admitted.  Some  of 
them  would  certainly  be  spies.  The  Chinese  had  as 
much  reason  to  hesitate,  in  this  special  case,  as  the 
Tibetans.  Loss  of  their  suzerainty  was  to  be  con- 
templated as  probable,  and  also  loss  of  their  tea- 
trade.  A  period  of  five  years  was  fixed  for  the 
non-importation  of  tea  from  India,  and  other  word- 
ing showed  plainly  enough  that  the  day  would  come 
when  the  Tibetan  market  would  be  forced  open.1 
This  you  may  say  is  righteous;  monopolies  are 
generally  bad.  Free  trade  is  good.  That,  too,  is 
my  belief.  But  there  is  something  better  than  free 

1  See  Appendix,  G. 


The  Wolf  and  the  Lamb          233 

trade,  and  that  is  the  right  of  a  people  to  govern 
itself. 

Another  tea  episode — more  than  a  hundred  years 
old — stands  out  in  English  history,  in  its  details  dis- 
creditable to  both  parties,  yet  illustrating  the  fact 
that  liberty  is  dearer  than  tea.  It  is  not  in  the  least 
probable  that  the  effort  by  England  to  force  Assam 
tea  on  Tibet  will  be  followed  by  such  consequences 
as  those  belonging  to  the  more  famous  incident  in 
Boston  Harbour;  for  the  Tibetans  are  weak.  The 
parallel  is  of  value  only  on  the  sentimental  side, 
removed  by  many  degrees  from  the  field  of  practical 
empire-building.  The  Chinese  doubtless  make  a 
profit  out  of  the  tea  trade  with  Tibet,  and  doubtless 
the  English  or  native  tea  growers  in  India  would 
like  to  have  this  profit.  As  the  matter  stands, 
however,  the  Tibetans  prefer  Chinese  tea  to  any 
other,  and  even  pay  more  for  it,  in  .Ladak,  where 
Indian  tea  is  easily  obtainable,  than  the  price  of  this 
latter.  And  even  if  they  did  not  like  it  better,  the 
vast  danger  of  receiving  any  other  is  so  great  that 
they  must  be  willing  to  sacrifice  a  nuance  of  taste 
for  the  very  substance  of  political  liberty.  The 
Yankees,  be  it  remembered,  did  not  have  even  brick 
tea  as  a  substitute.  It  is  of  no  consequence — all 
this  commiseration  of  the  poor  Tibetans  who  are 
forced  to  take  Chinese  tea — nay,  it  is  of  conse- 
quence, for  it  is  hypocritical  and  mean.  They  do 
not  want  to  trade  with  India.  They  are  afraid  to 
trade  with  India.  They  will  be  forced  to  trade  with 
India. 

Of  this  treaty  of  1890,  as  of  a  later  convention  in 
1894,  we  may  say,  in  charging  the  British  policy  as 


234  Tibet  and  Turkestan 

the  cause  of  all  subsequent  troubles,  what  Pym  said 
of  the  Earl  of  Strafford,  under  impeachment:  "If 
there  were  any  necessity,  it  was  of  his  own  making; 
he,  by  his  evil  counsel,  had  brought  the  king  into  a 
necessity;  and  by  no  rules  of  justice  can  be  allowed 
to  gain  this  advantage  by  his  own  fault,  as  to  make 
that  a  ground  of  justification  which  is  a  great  part 
of  his  offence." 

The  chain  of  events  is  an  unbroken  one — treaties 
made  under  duress,  slow  fulfilment  or  misunder- 
standing of  terms,  further  demands  on  the  part  of 
the  aggressive  power,  allegations  of  petty  wrongs 
that  have  obviously  proceeded  from  the  initial  great 
wrong.  Such  allegations  constitute  the  fringe 
hanging  on  the  naked  body  of  Tibetan  offence; 
that  naked  body  was  the  gift-sending  to  the  Czar. 
As  to  why  that  was  considered  a  wrong,  we  have 
already  inquired.  As  to  the  propriety  of  dwelling 
but  shortly  on  the  contentions  about  a  non-existent 
trade,  JEsop  wrote  fables  to  serve  in  just  such 
cases.  We  are  hearing  the  wolf  and  the  lamb 
engaging  in  a  world-old  conversation.  The  action 
follows,  and  we  may  now  follow  the  action. 

When  the  South  African  war  had  been  ended,  when 
the  chase  of  the  Mad  Mullah  had  ceased  to  demand 
great  attention,  when  Japan  had  begun  a  brisk 
correspondence  with  Russia  about  Manchuria,  the 
time  seemed  ripe  for  urging  again  an  unwelcome 
trade  upon  the  Tibetans  who  ask  but  one  thing  in 
all  the  world— that  they  be  let  alone.  A  high  com- 
missioner was  appointed,  his  escort  was  gathered; 
just  enough,  he  declared  to  the  frightened  Tibet- 
ans, for  illustrating  the  dignity  of  his  office;  it 


03      ffi 
J3      -w 


<U          . 


•~      S 
<U     o 

2   ' 


The  Wolf  and  the  Lamb         235 

rapidly  grew,  when  the  Tibetans  begged  him  to 
desist  from  entering  their  country.  Soon  it  became 
an  army  of  about  ten  thousand  men  all  told. 

The  commissioner  indicates  at  once  his  mild  at- 
titude by  declaring  that  he  will  not  negotiate  at  the 
point  within  Tibetan  territory  which  his  hosts  have 
nominated.  Imagine  that  message  coming  from  a 
man  leading  an  army  into  your  country;  imagine 
the  nauseating  hypocrisy  of  it ;  imagine  the  terror, 
the  despair,  the  final  frenzy  of  it  among  the  victims 
of  this  Christian-led  force  of  Mohammedans  and 
Hindoos  going  into  a  land  of  monkish  farmers  and 
shepherds!  There  was  honest  hope,  stupidly  in- 
dulged, that  the  poor  creatures  would  yield  their 
country  without  a  fight.  They  were  known  to  be 
helpless,  but  they  were  not  known  to  be  heartless, 
and  why  Colonel  Younghusband  continued  to  nego- 
tiate for  the  control  of  the  country  before  shooting 
a  goodly  number  and  thus  satisfying  their  natural 
desire  for  effort  and  for  sacrifice  one  hardly  knows. 
Could  he  be  Machiavellian  enough  to  have  con- 
sidered that  every  day's  delay  meant  a  larger  in- 
demnity ;  could  he  have  tarried  until  that  indemnity 
reached  a  figure  which  meant  indefinite  occupation 
of  the  country?  No,  it  is  not  probable,  yet  pos- 
sible.1 The  probability  is  that  his  course  was 
merely  halting  from  two  causes:  an  honourable 
desire  to  avoid  bloodshed,  and  a  stupid  belief  that 
he  could  accomplish  his  object  without  it. 

There  were  the  usual  delays  of  waiting  for  Chinese 
Ambans,  tentative  discussion,  frantic  appeals  by 

1  See  below  for  confirmation  appearing  after  this  chapter  was 
written. 


236  Tibet  and  Turkestan 

various  Tibetan  officials  that  he  should  withdraw  to 
the  point  named  by  them,  remorseless  advance  of 
the  armed  executioners,  and  finally  '  a  day  came 
when — oh,  but  it  was  all  their  fault. 

We  only  wanted  to  disarm  them,  and  they  "began 
it."  We  were  disarming  them  and  they  began  it! 
We  are  sorry,  but  such  stupidity,  such  disobedience, 
clearly  puts  us  in  the  right.  The  hundreds  whom  we 
shot  down  were  really  suicides,  and  our  men  were  so 
moderate!  They  killed  only  some  hundreds  (we 
never  knew  how  many)  and  yet  they  were  filled 
with  righteous  vengeance,  for  several  of  our  people 
were  killed  by  the  rebels  and  several  more  were 
injured.  How  wickedly  stupid  of  them  to  resist 
this  disarmament !  Have  we  not  come  for  their 
good?  And  did  they  not  send  presents  to  the  Czar? 
And  now  is  anything  left  to  us,  followers  of  Christ, 
except  to  march  on  to  Lhasa  and  teach  these 
people  a  lesson  ? 

Yes,  O  lordly  Briton,  you  have  taught  them  a 
lesson  and  all  the  world  is  the  worse  for  it.  Per- 
haps good  shall  come  out  of  the  evil  you  have 
done,  but  you  have  been  made  to  do  what  men  call 
evil,  even  as  the  tempest  that  wrecks  our  ships, 
even  as  the  fever  which  ravages  our  health,  even 
as  the  serpent  which  poisons  all  the  body. 

So  the  march  was  made  to  Lhasa,  after  the  glorious 
victory  of  Guru  and  many  other  butcheries. 

Decorations  were  being  devised  while  the  treaty 
was  under  consideration.  But  the  Dalai  Lama  had 
gone  from  his  seat  ere  the  British  entered.  While 
they  were  gazing  with  ambitious  eyes  upon  the  build- 

1  See  Appendix  O. 


The  Wolf  and  the  Lamb         237 

ings  which  represent  a  people's  faith,  and  were  violat- 
ing by  their  presence  a  people's  rights,  he  was  errant 
on  the  plains ;  where,  we  do  not  know.  Then  came 
his  deposition  from  temporal  power  by  Chinese  edict ; 
the  arm  that  reaches  from  London  to  Lhasa  swings 
heavily  round  to  Pekin.1  The  Pantchen  Lama  is 
set  up  by  British  force,  because  somebody  must 
sign  the  treaty  they  have  drafted,  something  must 
be  done  to  give  basis  for  further  action  next  year. 

The  season  draws  on  apace,  and  it  would  be  a 
fearsome  thing  to  be  shut  up  in  Lhasa  all  the  long 
winter.  Even  these  unarmed  people  might  find  a 
way  of  deliverance  during  the  months  when  no  more 
cartridges  could  come  from  the  land  of  Bibles.  And 
food  is  scarce,  of  course;  while  the  fear  is  upon 
them,  the  Tibetans  let  the  grain  come  in,  but  even 
their  fear  or  their  good-will  cannot  grow  another 
crop  to  feed  the  unusual  mouths.  If  all  these  be  fed, 
Tibetans  must  starve.  Starving  men  are  desperate. 
Nay,  we  must  go  down  the  hill,  having  gaily 
marched  up  its  steeps.  But  somebody  must  sign 
something;  so  the  poor  recluse  from  Teshalumbo 
is  brought  to  Lhasa;  clothed,  by  the  British,  with 
authority  which  amounts  to  a  revolution  in  Tibetan 
administration ;  signs  a  paper  drawn  by  the  British, 
and  they  go  away.  The  work  is  done,  or  well  begun. 
Next  year,  when  the  impossible  indemnity  shall  still 
hang  over  the  land,  we  shall  be  in  Chumbi  Valley, 
and  does  not  Clause  IX.  make  us  suzerains  in  fact 
though  (now)  we  hypocritically  declare  that  we  have 
not  disturbed  the  peace  of  China,  and  though  we 

1  But  the  Pekin  authorities  were  canny  enough  to  call  this  only  a 
"  temporary  "  deposition.  The  play  is  not  yet  ended. 


238  Tibet  and  Turkestan 

actually  must  await  Pekin's  action  before  claiming 
the  whole  thing  as  a  fait  accompli  ? 

But  surely  we  have  done  enough  to  justify  us  in 
further  interference.  We  can  ever  claim  that  this 
treaty,  signed  by  our  Pantchen  Lama,  gave  us  vested 
rights.  There !  Is  not  that  worth  a  whole  deluge  of 
decorations  ?  Think  of  it !  We  have  vested  rights 
in  Tibet !  Why  these  people  are  under  our  protection! 
In  our  paternal  care  of  them  we  may  exclude  every- 
body else.  We  may  even  exclude  the  Buriat  wor- 
shippers (Russian  subjects)  from  the  shrine  of  their 
religion ;  for  did  not  great  danger  come  to  our  wards 
through  one  of  them  ?  Were  we  not  vexed  by  his 
taking  of  presents  to  the  Czar  ?  And  suppose  we 
had  not  been  the  considerate,  too-tender,  too-for- 
giving Christians  that  we  are,  how  terrible  might 
have  been  the  fate  of  these  people! 

Twice  have  they  grievously  sinned  against  us, 
yea,  thrice.  Once — never  let  it  be  forgot ! — they  sent 
presents  to  the  Czar;  once  they  refused  to  receive  a 
peaceful  mission  of  soldiers,  when  and  where  Colonel 
Younghusband  desired  to  be  received ;  and  once  they 
declined  to  be  disarmed  by  us.  And  yet  many  of 
them  are  alive !  Has  ever  a  people  been  so  full  of 
Christian  grace  as  the  English  people?  And,  lastly, 
we  can  now  arrange  that  these  people  shall  buy  tea 
from  us.  It  may  be  cheaper  than  the  tea  they  now 
prefer,  and  yet  at  a  lower  price  there  will  be  profit 
in  it  for  us.  Truly  our  Good-Samaritanism  is  with- 
out bounds! 

And  now  we  must  go,  because  we  see  we  cannot 
be  comfortable  here,  all  of  us,  during  their  dread- 
ful winter;  and  though  we  have  won  their  love, 


The  Wolf  and  the  Lamb         239 

yet  we  think  it  wiser  not  to  leave  a  small  number 
of  us  here.  That  wicked  Dalai  Lama  might  return, 
and  then — !  But  we  also  shall  return,  for  must 
we  not  bear  the  white  man's  burden?  Must  we 
not  protect  them?  Remember,  then,  that  we  are 
now  married;  has  not  the  bond  been  signed?  And 
if  there  ever  was  a  question  as  to  the  propriety  of 
our  attentions,  there  can  be  none  now.  Yes,  we 
shall  come  again.  Meanwhile  they  must  be  faithful 
to  the  marriage  vow  in  Clause  IX. ;  otherwise — but 
how  could  they  be  so  wicked? — after  such  a  gentle 
wooing,  after  such  a  happy  wedding ! 

These  tender  adieux  having  been  cried  out  to  a 
listening  world,  the  high  commissioner  and  his  es- 
cort went  away,  bearing  the  marriage  certificate  and 
reaping  much  glory.  Of  course  the  Russian  Govern- 
ment interposed  its  objection  to  so  flagrant  a  breach 
of  faith  as  appears  from  a  comparison  of  promise 
at  the  outset  with  performance  at  the  end.  Even 
far-away  Washington,  long  before  the  treaty  was 
drafted,  but  when  a  few  observers  pointed  the  drift 
of  things,  uttered  a  word,  merely  a  sort  of  "We 
view  with  concern," — yet  of  some  significance. 
The  Chinese  Government  up  to  this  writing  has  not 
formally  accepted  the  terms  forced  upon  its  local 
representative.  Lansdowne  has  indicated  that  he 
would  listen  to  Russia's  proposals  of  modification; 
the  Dalai  Lama  is  still  in  the  offing.  The  Tibetan 
people  are  again  wrapped  in  obscurity,  and  it  remains 
to  see  whether  they  will  be  quiet  under  a  new  gov- 
ernment; the  change  involves  so  many  complicated 
threads  of  religious  and  political  habit  that  we  can 
see  little  of  the  future. 


240  Tibet  and  Turkestan 

Doubtless  one  thing,  full  of  opportunity  to  the 
English,  has  been  securely  accomplished;  that  is 
the  establishment  of  discord  in  Tibet.  There  are 
few  countries,  however  civilised,  in  which  the  fire 
of  faction  would  not  burn  high  after  the  giving  of 
power  by  exterior  force  to  one  group  of  men,  tak- 
ing it  from  another.  We  do  not  sufficiently  under- 
stand the  real  sentiments  of  the  influential  lamas 
toward  the  two  great  Incarnations;  we  do  not  know 
well  enough  the  real  attitude  of  the  Chinese  au- 
thorities as  distinguished  from  their  enforced  ac- 
tion under  British  pressure;  we  do  not  know  well 
enough  the  degree  of  stupefied  despair  which  may 
have  taken  hold  of  the  Tibetans  at  large  on  seeing 
the  recent  exhibition  of  barbarous  will  working 
through  the  power  of  science.  It  may  be  that  this 
alone  will  bring  submission,  all  internal  adjustments 
between  factions  being  made  secondary  to  the  desire 
to  escape  from  the  vengeance  of  the  Christians.  Yet 
even  their  submission  may  be  checked  by  the 
resistance  of  others. 

The  proposed  treaty  clearly  threatens  the  rights 
of  Russia's  subjects — Kalmuks  and  Buriats — who 
have  from  time  immemorial  journeyed  to  Lhasa's 
temples.  The  fierce,  and,  I  believe,  unwarranted 
suspicion,  which  has  led  to  the  war  just  ended, 
might  at  any  time,  if  wielding  suzerain  power,  cut 
off  this  pilgrimage  or  unduly  harass  the  pilgrims. 
The  rights  of  China  are  flouted ;  the  proposed  treaty 
is,  in  fact,  an  attack  upon  the  integrity  of  the  Chinese 
Empire,  as  a  corresponding  aggression  upon  North- 
ern India  by  Russia  would  be  considered  as  an 
attack  upon  the  British  Empire.  Yet  England  is 


Where  watered  sands  burst  into  life. 


The  Wolf  and  the  Lamb         241 

particularly  loud,  in  chorus  with  the  Americans, 
in  demands  for  the  maintenance  of  Chinese  integ- 
rity. Her  ruthless  act  in  Tibet  must  undoubtedly 
shake  the  prestige  of  Pekin  authority  all  over  Mon- 
golia and  Turkestan,  and  may  have  indirect  results 
of  most  serious  character. 

As  to  what  will  be  the .  duration  and  vigour  of 
resistance  offered  by  Russia  and  China  to  the  con- 
firmation and  enforcement  of  Younghusband's  con- 
vention, that  is  plainly  a  question  whose  answer 
must  be  heard  in  some  echo  from  the  mountains  of 
Manchuria.  China's  diplomatic  movements  are  ha- 
bitually slow,  even  when  her  interests  would  seem 
to  demand  haste.  In  this  case,  unless  she  is  pre- 
pared to  brave  the  insistent  English,  her  interest 
lies  with  delay.  But  Russia  and  China  are  not 
alone,  though  vastly  preponderant,  in  their  interest 
in  the  Tibetan  question.  The  indirect  effects  may 
be  of  wide  international  import.  This  phase  of  the 
question  was  broached  by  me  in  a  paper  appearing 
in  the  North  American  Review  of  May,  1904,  shortly 
after  my  return  from  Asia,  and  before  the  rigorous 
Clause  IX.,  or  any  part  of  the  drastic  Younghus- 
band  convention  had  been  published.  That  its 
near-by  previsions  were  just,  the  event  has  proved. 

A  quotation  from  that  paper  may  well  explain 
the  ultimate  danger  to  the  Asiatic — hence  to  the 
European  —  situation  that  may  spring  from  the 
apparently  isolated  events  in  an  almost  unknown 
mountain-region. 

"  The  practical  destruction  of  Thibetan  independence, 
which  may  be  assumed  as  the  object  of  the  present 

16 


242  Tibet  and  Turkestan 

Younghusband  expedition,  will  serve  Russia  admirably, 
as  authorizing  the  easy  conquest  of  Chinese  Turkestan. 
For  such  is  the  accepted  code  of  balances  generally 
adopted  by  the  nations  who  believe  themselves  com- 
missioned to  benevolently  assimilate  certain  other  na- 
tions. Indeed,  except  for  her  present  preoccupation  in 
another  part  of  the  Chinese  Empire,  the  consular  guard 
might  at  any  moment  be  put  to  the  easy  task  of  seizing 
the  reins  of  government  now  in  the  hands  of  the  quiet, 
dignified,  philosophical  Chinese  officials,  who,  alas  !  have 
somewhat  outgrown  that  simple  faith  in  Force  which 
controls  the  policies  of  Christian  nations.  The  easy- 
going Turki  people,  natives  of  the  soil,  accustomed  to  be 
mastered,  will  doubtless  be  indifferent  to  the  change, 
perhaps  even  hopeful.  Already  they  feel  that  the  Russian 
Consul-General  largely  influences  the  acts  of  the  Chinese 
Taotai. 

"Recognizing  then  that  the  status  quo  is  now  being  rude- 
ly shaken  in  Thibet,  and  may  at  any  time  be  destroyed  in 
Turkestan,  let  us  note  that  in  both  cases  there  will  result 
a  partial  disintegration  of  the  Chinese  Empire,  for  whose 
integrity  the  world  may  well  be  concerned.  In  neither 
case  is  the  territory  now  considered  a  part  of  any  of  the 
eighteen  provinces  constituting  China  proper,  but  in  one 
case  the  administration  of  all  public  affairs  is  directly  in 
the  hands  of  men  named  in  Peking,  and  in  the  other  the 
suzerainty  of  China  is  distinctly  recognized  in  the  pres- 
ence of  three  Ambans  residing  in  Lhassa  and  exer- 
cising preponderating  influence  in  all  important  matters. 
If,  however,  the  encroachments  from  this  direction  could 
be  guaranteed  to  be  arrested  at  the  frontier,  separating 
China  proper  from  Turkestan  on  the  one  hand,  and 
Thibet  on  the  other,  the  world-at-large — wisely  shirking 
the  moral  questions,  because  all  have  sinned  alike — 
might  be  content  to  exhibit  only  the  interest  of  curiosity 


The  Wolf  and  the  Lamb         243 

in  the  changes  now  working  in  the  heart  of  Asia.  But 
can  such  an  arrest  be  possible  as  against  the  compelling 
rivalry  of  two  great,  forceful,  belligerent  empires  ?  They 
will  each  have  long  frontier  lines  at  the  back  door  of 
China.  In  each  case  the  controlled  territory  has  intimate 
relations  with  China  proper.  A  hundred  petty  questions, 
some  large  ones,  will  arise,  each  capable  of  being  de- 
veloped into  a  cause  of  complaint.  Complaints  against 
China  when  made  by  the  peoples  of  iron  and  fire  are 
usually  satisfied  by  taking  something  from  China,  unless 
objection  be  made  by  some  yet  stronger  nation  of  iron 
and  fire.  Quite  independent  of  any  plan  looking  thereto, 
even  against  their  vague  plans  of  moderation,  the  jealous 
rivals  may  find  themselves  driven  on  to  continued  ag- 
gressions. And  these  jealousies  will  thus  operate  in  a 
theatre  so  remote  from  the  world's  success  that  gravest 
injuries  might  be  inflicted  upon  the  peace-loving  celes- 
tials long  before  such  injuries  could  be  known  to  friendly 
critics,  ourselves  for  instance,  who  insist  that  no  harm 
shall  be  done  to  China  which  may  do  harm  to  us. 

"  This,  then,  is  but  a  word  of  caution.  There  is  no 
room  for  cant  or  self-righteousness  on  the  part  of  any 
nation.  We  have  all  been  made  sordid.  What  we  call 
progress  has  self-interest  as  its  mainspring.  To  prevent 
surprises  and  recriminations  it  is  best  that  there  should 
be  no  misunderstanding.  European  and  American  dip- 
lomats in  China  should  now  endeavor  to  watch  the  back 
door  as  well  as  the  front  door  of  the  great  mansion  which 
all  desire  to  enter.  My  prayer  is  that  our  quarrels  may 
not  urge  us  to  do  unmeasured  violence  to  a  great,  civil- 
ized, non-military  people." 

In  discussing  with  Mr.  Rockhill  the  probable 
eastward  extension  of  the  contest  for  advantage 
between  Great  Britain  and  Russia,  he  justly  pointed 


244  Tibet  and  Turkestan 

out,  as  tending  to  minimise  the  danger,  the  fact  that 
the  Lhasa  authority  ends  long  before  the  frontier 
of  China  proper  is  met,  going  eastward ;  that,  in- 
termediate between  the  great  Central  Tibetan  state 
and  the  Empire,  are  several  large  districts,  some 
substantially  independent,  some  under  a  Chinese 
rule  far  more  direct  than  that  at  Lhasa,  and  in  any 
case  free  from  political  connection  with  that  city. 
Some  of  these  smaller  states,  indeed,  as  Mr.  Rock- 
hill  and  other  travellers  in  Eastern  Tibet  have 
testified,  are  more  or  less  jealous  of  the  Lhasa 
Government.  These  conditions,  it  seemed  to  Mr. 
Rockhill,  would  put  a  stop  to  English  movement 
eastward;  these  states,  he  thought,  would  be  a 
buffer  between  the  Lion  at  Lhasa  and  the  Dragon 
of  China.  But,  though  yielding  to  none  in  my 
respect  for  Mr.  Rockhill's  authority,  I  yet  feel  sure, 
that  if  Nepal  and  Tibet  have  not  served  as  buffers 
in  the  past,  we  may  not  count  anything  as  a  sure 
buffer  in  the  future.  The  very  dissensions  which 
now  indicate  a  certain  independence  of  the  small 
states,  will  become  inducements  for  endless  exten- 
sion of  British  Power  if  once  it  be  established  at 
Lhasa. 

Assuming  Russia  in  Kashgar  and  England  in 
Lhasa,  we  must  observe,  moreover,  the  new  phase 
of  parallelism  of  march  as  distinguished  from  frontal 
approach.  The  faces  of  both  will  be  turned  east- 
ward and  prestige  will  drive  them  forward  over 
perils,  as  neck-and-neck  horses  are  driven  over 
hurdles  to  the  finish.  True,  if  China  meanwhile 
is  solidified  by  external  or  internal  force,  so  that 
her  frontier  is  one  that  can  resist  pressure  by  force, 


H 
^ 

c 

1 

u 


a- 
>> 

H 


The  Wolf  and  the  Lamb         245 

then  our  coursers  may  be  stopped,  but  not  other- 
wise. 

Whether  or  not  complications  in  Western  China 
will  be  viewed  as  seriously  by  others  as  by  me,  it  yet 
may  be  taken  for  granted  that  the  rape  of  Tibet  will 
not  be  forgotten  by  the  statesmen  of  interested 
nations  when  they  gravely  begin  that  general  read- 
justment which  must  follow  the  close  of  the  Russo- 
Japanese  war.  No  incident  as  large  as  that  just 
precipitated  by  Lord  Curzon's  fears  and  Colonel 
Younghusband's  ambition  can  stand  alone  in  the 
world's  politics  of  to-day.  It  is  probable  that  even 
if  the  main  mise  upon  Tibet  be  permitted  to  be  per- 
manent, Great  Britain  will  somewhere  else  be  re- 
quired to  yield  a  quid  pro  quo  out  of  proportion  to 
the  value  gained  in  Tibet.  I  say  out  of  proportion 
because  I  consider  that  value  as  nil  or  negative,  and 
I  mean  the  value  to  the  average  inhabkant  of  Great 
Britain  and  also  to  the  average  inhabitant  of  India. 

If  Great  Britian  were  a  cooped-in  nation,  if  her 
energetic  sons  found  no  open  spaces  in  the  world  for 
stretching  their  legs  and  sharpening  their  wits,  then 
perhaps  the  opportunity  for  even  the  few  whom 
Tibet  could  support  would  be  of  general  benefit. 
But  the  administration  of  present  holdings  by  Gov- 
ernment, and  the  maintenance  of  a  sharp  commercial 
contest  throughout  the  world, — these  two  national 
activities  create  demands  for  men,  for  brains,  which 
are  not  more  than  met.  There  is  no  surplus.  Such 
work  as  England  has  so  largely  in  hand  requires 
high-grade  men.  The  ordinary  white  man  is  not 
the  typical  sahib,  yet  in  many  corners  of  her  sub- 
ject-world, it  is  only  the  sahib  quality  in  her 


246  Tibet  and  Turkestan 

representatives  which  makes  possible  the  holding- 
down  of  many  by  one.  Without  it,  there  might  be 
required  almost  as  many  Tommy  Atkinses  as  there 
are  natives  to  be  held.  That  this  sahib  quality  has 
been  widely  furnished,  that  it  does  wonderful  work, 
I  can  stoutly  testify.  I  can  also  testify  that  it  is 
not  wise  to  have  one  solitary  sahib  in  Zeila,  as  was 
the  case  when  I  went  thence  into  Africa.  Only 
two  were  at  Adis  Abeba,  one  of  these  leaving  with 
me.  Only  one  at  a  frontier  post  near  the  eastern 
border  of  the  Soudan.  Only  forty  white  men  at 
Khartoum  in  June,  1900.  (The  smallness  of  this 
number  was  a  surprise,  even  to  those  who  counted 
noses  at  my  suggestion.)  One  only,  as  related  in 
these  pages,  at  Kashgar ;  and  so  in  many  a  lost  spot. 
Then  suddenly,  because  the  one  man  is  overworked 
(as  I  saw  at  Zeila),  there  comes  a  war  which  might 
have  been  avoided  had  there  been  time  to  get  into 
the  hinter-land.  There  would  be  time  to  feel  the 
country  ahead  of  one,  as  I  know  had  not  been,  could 
not  be,  done  on  the  Abyssinia-Soudan  frontier. 
Need  one  say  anything  further  as  to  the  fatal  lack 
of  good  men  before  and  during  the  great  Boer  war? 
Not  every  white  man  has  the  sahib  quality.  That 
is  the  important  thing.  So  it  is  that  the  ever- 
growing demands  of  administration,  and  the  ever- 
growing demands  of  a  new  competition  in  commerce, 
run  almost  beyond  the  output  even  of  the  mighty 
womb  which  has  sent  its  sons  to  girdle  the  world. 

A  conservation  of  the  British  Empire  seems  to  me 
a  matter  of  maximum  importance  to  all  the  world. 
That  it  should  be  conserved,  it  must,  I  think,  be 
conservative.  The  raid  into  Tibet  I  believe  to  have 


The  Wolf  and  the  Lamb         247 

been  wild,  not  capable  of  bearing  good  fruit.  Its 
occupation  is  not  necessary  to  the  preservation  of 
the  Empire's  peace;  nor  would  it  conduce  to  the 
Empire's  prosperity.  Any  harm  that  could  possibly 
come  out  of  Tibet  could  be  met,  at  the  moment  of 
its  appearance,  at  less  moral  and  material  cost  than 
by  years  of  repression  and  injustice  based  on  mere 
suspicion.  The  whole  world  must  come  under  the 
British  flag  if  the  "maybes"  which  cost  Tibet  its 
independence  were  to  be  applied  to  the  rest  of  us. 


CHAPTER  XIX 

COUNSELS   OF   PERFECTION 

IF,  then,  the  Younghusband  raid  seems  to  be  what 
men  call  a  crime,  and  what  men  call  a  blunder, 
what  next?  Let  us  suppose  two  possibilities:  first, 
that  in  a  reasonable  time  the  treaty  shall  be  rati- 
fied substantially  as  written.  Then,  in  order  that 
any  effect  be  had,  in  order  that  things  be  not  as 
they  were  before,  there  must  be  occupation  by  force 
sufficient  to  awe  the  Tibetans.  The  corresponding 
occupation  of  Turkestan  by  Russia,  sooner  or  later, 
must  be  contemplated,  and  the  probable  series  of 
complications  already  described  in  the  excerpts  from 
the  North  American  Review.  Second,  suppose  the 
treaty  to  be  not  ratified,  but  emasculated.  The 
most  difficult  point  may  be  the  excision  of  the  in- 
demnity clause,  for  it  must  be  supposed  that  even 
in  India,  non-voting,  non-represented  India,  her 
British  rulers  would  hesitate  to  charge  up  an  ac- 
count of  ^"500,000  against  Indian  revenue,  acknow- 
ledging its  expenditure  to  have  been  unwise.  Yet 
that  would  be  the  cheapest  way  out,  I  think,  and,  if 
necessary,  London  might  help  to  bear  this  burden ; 
but  that  is  a  counsel  of  perfection.  The  perfectly 
honourable,  perfectly  Quixotic,  and  hence  perfectly 
improbable  course  would  be  the  following:  Let  it 
be  frankly  stated,  "We  believed  you  might  be  in  con- 
spiracy to  put  yourselves  in  Russian  leading-strings; 

248 


King's  Palace  and  remarkable  group  of  Chortens  in  Ladak  Leh. 


Counsels  of  Perfection  249 

we  are  willing  that  you  should  be  independent.  We 
find  we  were  mistaken  in  regard  to  the  Russians, 
hence  we  revert  to  the  position  always  held  (on 
paper)  that  we  have  no  designs  against  you.  As  we 
were  wrong  in  our  suspicions  we  of  course  have 
no  right  to  a  war  indemnity.  Our  claim  in  that 
respect  is  remitted.  You  desire  to  be  isolated,  and 
your  desire  should  be  a  recognised  right.  We  want 
peace  of  mind  in  the  future  concerning  the  possible 
intrigues  of  our  great  rival. 

"As  a  fair  compromise,  representing  less  than  our 
force  might  demand,  we,  acknowledging  our  initial 
error,  now  propose  that  a  British  agent  be  stationed 
in  Lhasa,  without  any  authority,  since  there  are  to 
be  no  relations  except  those  you  may  desire,  but 
merely  as  an  observer,  a  visitor,  whom,  knowing, 
you  shall  learn  to  like  and  to  trust.  The  trade- 
privileges  extorted  from  you,  and  considered  dan- 
gerous by  you,  will  be  abandoned.  If  gradually, 
by  reason  of  our  agent's  representations,  you  come 
to  a  different  opinion  as  to  us,  we  shall  be  glad  to 
strengthen  our  relations  in  all  friendly  ways.  We 
want  your  friendship.  Our  God  and  your  great 
Incarnation,  the  ineffable  Buddha,  are  both  reported 
to  have  urged  men  to  love  each  other.  We  may 
not  be  able  to  live,  as  our  Master  advised,  a  life  of 
non-resistance ;  we  may  not  be  able  to  do  good  to 
those  that  despitefully  use  us;  but  we  think  our- 
selves capable  henceforth  of  being  good  to  you  if 
you  are  good  to  us,  i.  e.,  if  you  have  no  conspiracy 
by  which  Russian  influence  shall  become  dominant 
in  Lhasa,  whatever  that  may  mean." 

Now,    gentle    reader,    you    may    imagine    how 


250  Tibet  and  Turkestan 

impertinent  this  suggestion  would  seem  to  Lord 
Curzon,  or  to  any  of  the  gentlemen  around  him  who 
take  themselves  and  the  world  so  seriously  and  make 
it  so  tragic.  The  outsider  venturing  to  criticise  is 
most  likely  to  be  ignored ;  as  a  matter  of  fact  he  is 
often  not  supplied  with  sufficient  data  for  wise  criti- 
cism. Did  I  not  believe  the  affair  in  Tibet  to  be 
one  in  which  only  the  admitted  facts  need  be  con- 
sidered, I  should  feel  that  the  able  men  in  Calcutta 
were  probably  right,  despite  my  first  impressions  to 
the  contrary.  But  it  is  true  that  administrative 
minds  are  often  clouded  by  knowledge  of  the  very 
detail  which  gives  them  a  sense  of  superiority.  And 
again,  the  important  moral  relations  between  com- 
munities, as  between  men,  are  best  guided  by  a  few 
general  principles,  and  even  one  who  is  not  viceroy 
of  India  may  grasp  these. 

So  clear  is  it  to  me,  however,  that  outside  amateur 
criticism  is  liable  to  error,  when  the  case  becomes 
complicated,  that  I  now  proceed  with  much  more 
hesitation  than  before  to  state  one  of  my  first  and 
strongest  impressions  as  to  the  unwisdom  of  the 
present  Tibetan  policy.  It  has  seemed  to  me  that 
when  the  facts  shall  be  understood  in  Afghanistan, 
as  in  the  end  they  will  be,  grave  risk  will  arise  of 
losing  the  nascent  favour  of  the  Ameer,  and  of 
compromising  British  interests,  in  a  quarter  where 
none  will  question  their  present  importance,  how- 
ever one  may  criticise  the  course  which  led  to  their 
creation.  How  different  the  situation  there  from 
that  existing  in  the  north-east !  Afghanistan  is  co- 
terminous with  British-administered  territory.  Tibet 
is  not.  Afghanistan  is  inhabited  by  a  warlike  peo- 


Counsels  of  Perfection  251 

pie.  Tibet  is  not.  Afghanistan  is  a  bridge  spanning 
directly  from  British  to  Russian  territory.  Tibet  is 
not.  Afghanistan  is  of  like  religion  with  millions 
of  the  least  pliable  among  the  Indian  populations. 
Tibet  is  not.  Afghanistan  is  blown  with  fanaticism 
and  the  pride  of  past  conquests  in  Hindoo  lands. 
Tibet  is  not.  Such  are  their  dissimilarities.  But 
both  are  small  nations,  clinging  devotedly  to  their 
present  political  and  social  conditions;  both  felt 
themselves  as  sitting  insecurely  just  beyond  the  last 
reach  of  the  lion's  claws.  Afghanistan  had  twice 
been  torn  to  the  entrails  by  his  outstretched  wrath, 
but  had  flung  death  aside;  and  now,  through  the 
skill  of  an  English  surgeon  who  healed  the  Ameer's 
hand  (wounded  in  a  shooting  accident) ;  through  the 
elation  caused  by  news  of  disaster  in  Manchuria  to 
one  of  the  threatening  neighbours;  through  several 
transient  favouring  causes,  the  royal  mind  has  un- 
bent and  leaned,  or  now  seems  to  lean,  toward 
British  friendship. 

The  observer  who  knows  only  these  facts  might 
well  inquire  as  to  the  wisdom  of  a  course  which, 
by  a  needless  attack  upon  a  hermit  people,  may 
frighten  the  young  confidence  of  the  Ameer  and 
confirm  him  in  the  faith,  held  by  so  many  of  his 
people,  that  the  lion  never  sleeps  and  is  always 
hungry.  The  possibility  of  losing  ground  in  Af- 
ghanistan by  virtue  of  a  raid  into  Tibet,  with  doubt- 
ful gain  as  maximum  reward,  must  certainly  have 
been  contemplated  by  a  watchful  Government  in 
Calcutta.  In  respect  to  such  an  indirect  and  some- 
what complicated  relation,  the  amateur  and  foreign 
critic  is  silent,  or  merely  wonders.  He  bows  to  the 


252  Tibet  and  Turkestan 

great  god  "  Government"  like  a  loyal  Briton,  not  dar- 
ing to  say  of  it,  "  Tant&ne  dnimis  coelestibus  irce  ?  ' 

Except  that  confession  and  restitution  are  not  yet 
among  the  phenomena  of  national  ethics,  no  one,  I 
fancy,  would  find  fault  with  the  speech  of  peace- 
making which  I  had  ventured  to  put  into  the  mouth 
of  the  British  Government.  Exceptional  as  it  is,  I 
feel  sure  that,  if  uttered  in  sincerity,  it  would  be 
followed  by  the  happy  results  which  most  of  us  have 
experienced,  now  and  then,  in  our  private  lives. 
Surely  the  best  relation,  selfishly  considered  at  Cal- 
cutta, and  assuming  Tibet  to  be  a  point  of  possible  Rus- 
sian intrigue,  would  be  that  of  friendship.  But  the 
course  of  past  events  has  made  it  impossible  that  the 
Tibetan  should  not  entertain  fear  rather  than  love  of 
the  British.  Little  has  been  done  to  dissipate,  much 
to  encourage  that  fear.  Even  in  the  acts  which  were 
extraneous  to  Tibetan  relations,  as  in  China,  and 
which  had  no  conscious  reference  to  them,  this  had 
unfortunately  been  true.  All  the  more  reason  for 
special  effort  here.  How  shall  friendship  be  shown, 
you  ask,  to  a  people  who  refuse  our  modest  "com- 
mercial missions"?  Let  them  alone,  or  slowly  gain 
their  good-will  through  the  Ladakis  and  Kashmiris 
who  have  access  to  them  and  who  afford  you  a  far 
more  useful  intermediation  than  Russia  possesses. 

1  This  view  of  the  case  seems  to  be  abundantly  justified  by  the  re- 
cent refusal  of  the  Ameer  to  meet  any  of  the  substantial  demands 
made  by  the  British  Commissioner  who  sought  modifications  in  the 
existing  treaty  between  the  two  Powers.  Resulting  from  his  unex- 
pected obstinacy  are  several  threats  of  punishment  appearing  in  seri- 
ous British  publications.  True,  they  are  not  official — but  they  are 
straws  in  the  current  of  public  opinion. 


Counsels  of  Perfection  253 

It  will  take  time  to  win  them.  It  has  taken  a 
century  of  encroachment  to  fill  their  hearts  with  fear 
of  you.  But  you  know  that  there  is  nothing,  save 
fear  of  you,  to  cause  them  to  give  a  second  thought 
to  Russia,  far  away  across  the  dreadful  deserts. 
Then  remove  the  fear  of  you  in  Tibetan  hearts,  and 
you  thus  remove  the  fear  of  Russia  in  yours.  It  is 
possible  that  this  should  be  done.  The  whole  his- 
tory and  delineation  of  the  people  suggest  it.  Con- 
sider their  weakness  and  your  strength.  If  ever 
they  have  listened  to  the  Buriat's  words  of  sugges- 
tion, if  ever  he  suggested  anything  more  than  the 
welfare  of  his  own  community  as  hanging  upon  the 
favour  of  the  Czar,  then  it  could  be  only  because 
you  have  bred  fear  instead  of  love.  These  people 
received  you  kindly  in  the  past ;  they  have  opened 
their  doors  to  those  who  preach  your  faith;  and 
they  have  seen  a  wall  of  fire  approach  them.  Try 
to  assure  them  that  the  flame  will  not  again  tongue 
the  peaks  of  their  mountains.  Try  to  take  into 
your  dealings  with  this  poor  people  the  warmth,  the 
hospitality,  the  friendship,  the  quick  charity  which 
your  splendid  officers  have  shown  to  me,  a  helpless 
stranger,  in  many  forsaken  spots  of  the  traveller's 
world.  And  as  to  that  unselfish  interest  in  the  de- 
velopment of  a  people  which,  after  all,  does  exist  in 
your  hearts,  let  it  be  satisfied  by  reflecting  that  the 
vast  changes  now  making  in  China  must  reach  Tibet, 
even  if  you  let  it  alone.  Slow  indeed  would  be  the 
process;  with  less  of  heartburn  and  despair;  less 
loss  of  faith  in  something  great  and  good ;  less  vio- 
lence done  to  honesty  in  your  own  breasts;  less 
strain  upon  the  peace  of  nations;  less  worship  of 


254  Tibet  and  Turkestan 

the  brute  throughout  the  world, — such  would  be 
the  awakening  of  Tibet  by  China. 

Summarising,  we  may  say  that  Russian  military 
occupation  of  Tibet  is  almost  incredible ;  that  if  ac- 
complished, it  must  be  done  across  the  corpse  of  the 
world's  Chinese  policy;  that,  if  extended  against 
India,  it  could  result  in  nothing  but  a  massacre  of 
such  Russo-Tibetan  forces  as  might  be  entrapped  in 
the  Himalayas;  that  mere  intrigue  could  produce, 
if,  incredibly,  it  produced  anything  at  all,  only  some 
abortive  effort  even  less  serious  than  the  imagined 
movement  under  Russian  leadership;  that  there  is 
as  yet  no  known  evidence  of  Russian  anti-British 
"intrigue  " ;  that  in  either  case  the  imagined  attack 
upon  India  from  Tibet  could  be  foreknown  through 
a  moderately  efficient  secret  service;  that  it  could 
be  met  when  precipitated  with  far  less  expenditure 
of  energy  and  of  treasure  (practically  no  lives  are 
involved  in  either  case)  than  the  Younghusband  ex- 
pedition has  involved ;  that  the  maintenance  of  en- 
forced trade-privilege  will  result  in  absurdly  small 
commercial  advantage  and  ominously  large  political 
irritation.  The  course  actually  pursued  has  con- 
firmed the  Tibetans  in  their  fears  of  British  conquest ; 
the  Afghans  in  their  blackest  suspicions ;  the  Rus- 
sians in  their  charges  of  British  duplicity  1 ;  and  the 
world  at  large  in  its  suspicion  that  brute  force,  not 
justice,  must  be  the  protection  of  any  cause  what- 
ever. Against  such  evil  effects  there  is  not  now 
any  righteous  remedy  except  that  known  aforetime 
— confession  and  restitution. 

'See  Appendices  showing  relation  between  diplomatic  relations 
and  actual  results. 


CHAPTER   XX 

THE  SACRIFICE  OF  YOUNGHUSBAND— WHAT  NEXT  ? 

SINCE  writing  the  preceding  chapter,  there  has 
appeared  a  second  Blue  Book  in  re  Tibet.  It 
reveals  a  contest  between  Policy  and  Logic.  Lon- 
don had  heard  the  notes  of  discontent  emanating 
from  several  capitals,  and  vigorous  protest  from  St. 
Petersburg,  the  capital  most  seriously  and  directly 
interested.  The  Younghusband  treaty  had  not  been 
received  as  a  source  of  sweetness  and  light  in  inter- 
national politics. 

Wisely  mindful  of  the  vast  burdens  which  the 
Empire  is  accumulating,  and  fearing  that  the  sure 
gain  of  Tibetan  occupation  might  be  far  less  than 
the  loss  due  to  European  (and  American)  opposi- 
tion, it  was  decided  to  sacrifice  Colonel  Younghus- 
band, and,  with  him,  those  terms  of  the  treaty 
which,  alone,  can  give  it  substance. 

Clause  IX.  declares  in  effect  a  protectorate  over 
Tibet.  This  clause  was  dictated  in  London.  To 
obtain  for  it  the  signature  of  even  a  trumped-up 
Government,  London  had  permitted  —  yea,  com- 
manded— the  slaughter  of  many  innocent  men.  It 
stands  for  a  violation  of  Tibetan  autonomy  and  of 
Chinese  suzerainty.  To  make  it  effective  some- 
thing more  must  logically  be  had — and  this  was 

255 


256  Tibet  and  Turkestan 

secured  by  Colonel  Younghusband.  His  corre- 
spondence discloses  the  fact  that — as  was  surmised 
above — the  indemnity  had  been  fixed  at  an  "ex- 
orbitant "  figure.  The  adjective  is  Colonel  Young- 
husband's.  But  he  wanted  to  use  it  "in  trade." 
He  finally  "accepts  their  own  proposition"  (so 
gracious  is  the  wolf  to  the  lamb),  and  provides  for 
seventy-five  annual  payments,  pending  the  comple- 
tion of  which — that  is,  for  seventy-five  years — there 
is  to  be  British  occupation  of  the  Chumbi  Valley. 
That  is  Tibetan  territory — and  the  military  key  to 
the  situation. 

Here  is  something  out  of  which  enforcement  of 
Clause  IX.  could  be  had.  But,  as  logically  belong- 
ing to  the  haughty  pretensions  of  that  clause,  there 
must  be  closer  touch  with  Lhasa  than  would  result 
merely  from  the  establishment  of  troops  in  Chumbi 
Valley — still  half  a  dozen  good  marches  distant  from 
the  capital.  So  it  was  in  the  earlier  negotiations 
wisely  provided  that  the  British  commercial  agent, 
ordinarily  charged  with  the  conduct  of  affairs  at  the 
two  trading-marts  provided  in  the  treaty,  should  be 
allowed,  when  he  deemed  it  necessary,  to  proceed 
to  Lhasa.  Thus  supervision  and  force  were  reason- 
ably created  to  perpetuate  a  control  which,  without 
them,  must  be  the  veriest  sham.  Both  these  pro- 
visions have  been  disallowed,  in  whole  or  in  part,  by 
the  Indian  Office  in  London,  and  Younghusband 
has  been  publicly  reprimanded  for  wilfully  exceeding 
specific  instructions.1  But  if  no  British  are  to  appear 
again  in  Tibet,  how  shall  the  ghost  of  Russian  in- 

1  The  provision  for  visiting  Lhasa  was  struck  out  before  signatures 
were  had. 


The  Sacrifice  of  Younghusband   257 

terference  be  laid?  What  check  exists  now  against 
the  dreadful  Dordjieff  which  did  not  exist  before 
the  raid?  "The  treaty  exists,"  replies  the  Indian 
Office,  "and  now,  if  we  hear  further  rumours 
of  intrigue,  we  shall  have,  out  of  our  treaty,  a  casus 
belli:' 

But  you  have  just  made  a  war  without  a  treaty — 
you  made  it  at  your  will,  alleging  only  absurd  ru- 
mours as  your  excuse — and  such  rumours  will  again 
be  created  for  you  or  by  you  in  the  future  as  in  the 
past.  Indeed,  they  are  much  more  to  be  expected  now 
than  ever  before.  Now,  as  never  before,  the  Tibe- 
tans may  be  led  to  give  ear  to  him  who  might  be- 
guile them  with  promise  of  protection  from  your 
blood-stained  hands.  And,  without  supervision  at 
Lhasa,  without  nearby  force  ever  threatening  pun- 
ishment, the  nervousness,  the  distrust,  the  furtive 
hope  of  the  Tibetans,  co-operating  with  your  own 
suspicions  and  enforced  ignorance,  must  create 
troublesome  situations  which  were  impossible  be- 
fore the  raid. 

Occasions  for  misunderstanding  will  further  arise 
from  the  presence  of  unwelcome  traders  at  the  marts 
which  the  Tibetans  are  required  to  establish,  and 
especially  from  the  attempted  disorganisation  of  the 
tea-trade,  now  the  source  of  a  considerable  part  of 
the  revenue  of  the  governing  class.  The  indemnity 
has  been  reduced  from  seventy-five  annual  pay- 
ments, aggregating  Rs.  7,500,000,  to  twenty-five 
annual  payments  aggregating  Rs.  2,500,000.  The 
occupation  of  Chumbi  Valley  has  been  reduced  from 
a  definite  period  of  seventy-five  years,  to  a  minimum 
of  three  years.  But  the  door  is  cunningly  left  open 


258  Tibet  and  Turkestan 

for  returning  substantially  to  the  Younghusband 
provision.  It  is  declared  that 

"the  British  occupation  of  the  Chumbi  Valley  shall 
cease  after  the  payment  of  three  annual  installments  of 
said  indemnity,  as  fixed  by  the  said  article.  Provided, 
however,  that  the  trade-marts,  as  stipulated  in  Article  2 
of  the  said  Convention,  shall  have  been  effectively  open 
for  three  years,  as  provided  in  Article  6  of  the  Conven- 
tion, and  that  in  the  meantime  the  Tibetans  shall  have 
faithfully  complied  with  the  terms  of  the  said  convention  in 
all  other  respects"  (Italics  are  mine. — O.  T.  C.) 

In  dealing  with  Tibet  (if  standing  alone)  the 
British  Government  will  be  the  sole  judge  of  its  own 
complaints.  On  the  very  face  of  the  Viceroy's 
edict,  just  quoted,  it  is  apparent  that  the  gracious 
reduction  in  the  period  of  occupation  may  at  any 
time  be  withdrawn.  Real  or  alleged  grievances  of 
Hindoo  traders;  real  or  alleged  exploits  of  Dord- 
jieff* s  spectre ;  real  or  alleged  resistance  to  the  proper 
setting  of  boundary  stones — almost  any  of  a  thou- 
sand pitifully  small  acts  of  a  disturbed  people, 
treading  a  new  path,  may  serve  to  end  the  farce  of 
grace. 

The  Blue  Book  discloses,  too,  all  the  wrangling 
between  authorities  which  led  to  the  making  of  the 
magnanimous  edict.  It  shows  him  who  officially 
uttered  the  gracious  words  strongly  contending  for 
the  retention  of  the  terms  exacted  by  Younghus- 
band. It  shows  the  Secretary  for  India,  who  de- 
mands the  changes,  urging  British  international 
interest,  not  justice  or  clemency  for  the  Tibetans, 
as  the  effective  reason  for  modification.  And  it 


The  Sacrifice  of  Younghusband   259 

shows  both  finally  compromising  their  divergent 
views  in  the  "act  of  grace."  Had  the  Blue  Book 
not  been  published,  the  Tibetans  might  have  been 
deceived.  But  as  the  English  language  is  under- 
stood in  Chinese  embassies,  the  fraud  must  be  known 
even  in  Lhasa.  There,  men  wear  hideous  devil- 
masks  that  hide  good-humoured  faces.  Now  they 
know  that  the  English  "act  of  grace"  means  simply 
this:  "Unless  prevented  therefrom  by  rival  powers, 
we  shall  do  with  the  Tibetans  whate'er  we  will." 
'T  is  a  fair  mask  hiding  an  ugly  face. 

The  rejection  of  Younghusband  by  the  Govern- 
ment adds  nothing  of  morality  to  its  role.  The 
publication  of  the  Blue  Book  does,  however,  suggest 
an  engaging  simplicity. 

Confession  and  Restitution — these  still  remain  to- 
day— approved  by  Religion,  neglected  by  States- 
manship. 


CHAPTER   XXI 

SKETCH  OF  THE  HISTORY  OF  TURKESTAN ' 

THE  curtain  rises  on  Turkestan  about  200  B.C. 
Khotan  is  known  in  the  Chinese  records  at 
about  that  date.  In  177  B.C.  these  records  set  forth 
the  expulsion  of  Khotanese  and  Kashgaris  from 
their  homes  due  to  the  incoming,  from  North-east 
Mongolia,  of  swarms  of  Yue-che,  of  Mongol  or 
Tartan  race,  who  sought  new  homes  vi  et  armis. 
Those  whose  vines  and  fig-trees  they  coveted  were 
a  people  far  advanced  beyond  the  Yue-che  in  all  the 
civil  arts.  Enough  has  been  said  in  connection  with 
the  ancient  MSS.  recently  discovered  (p.  60)  to  in- 
dicate that  the  Khotan  country  (doubtless  includ- 
ing the  region  farther  westward)  was  the  seat  of 
some  learning  as  early  as  the  date  ascribed  to  this 
movement;  and  even  without  the  specific  evidence 
which  has  been  found  to  indicate  that  fact,  it  might 
be  fairly  deduced  from  the  mere  existence  of  several 
considerable  cities  in  the  Tarim  basin.  Their  exist- 
ence in  such  a  land  supposes  extensive  systems  of 
irrigation,  and  these,  in  turn,  always  bespeak  a  highly 

1  The  author  has  delivered  several  lectures  on  the  journey  recounted 
in  this  book.  Subsequent  conversation  with  his  hearers  has  sug- 
gested the  need  of  a  short  presentation — such  as  here  is  attempted — 
of  the  history  of  Turkestan.  It  is  not  essential  to  an  understanding 
of  urgent  problems,  but  will,  perhaps,  interest  some  lovers  of  the 
past, 

260 


.     -5 

rt     «*- 
«3      o 

si 

.S    8 

u  -a 


y 


Sketch  of  History  of  Turkestan    261 

developed  social  organisation.  That  their  ultimate 
effect  would  be  to  weaken  the  organisation  as  a 
military  force  has  already  been  pointed  out.  It  is 
not  probable,  therefore,  that  the  hardy  shepherds 
from  Mongolia  paid  much  of  their  blood  for  the 
conquest  of  the  rich  oases. 

In  speaking  of  the  expulsion  of  these  earliest 
dwellers  I  have  used  a  term  frequently  found  in 
that  connection,  but  in  strictness  it  should  be  called 
merely  a  conquest.  The  attack  of  the  Yue-che 
was  not  that  of  a  ravaging  army  led  by  a  Jenghiz 
Khan  or  a  Tamerlane,  having  his  seat  of  power 
already  fixed,  and  now  merely  hungry  for  dominion. 
It  seems  to  have  been  the  effort  of  a  displaced  peo- 
ple to  find  new  homes.  They  were  unaccustomed 
to  fixed  agriculture  with  all  the  niceties  of  a  tangled 
irrigation  works:  wholesale  slaughter  or  expulsion 
would  then  have  left  them  without  toilers  for  the 
ditches  and  the  fields,  whose  fruits  they  might  take 
as  landlords.  That  a  considerable  number  of  the 
conquered  should  leave  is  not  unlikely — in  particu- 
lar the  pride-hurt  chiefs  and  their  closer  following. 
The  traditions  of  West  Turkestan,  indeed,  bear  wit- 
ness to  such  a  movement ;  the  earlier  settlers  there 
were  disturbed  by  this  secondary  wave — the  dispos- 
sessed becoming  thus  the  dispossessors.  But  the 
body  of  the  people  probably  remained.  To  what 
race  they  belonged  is  not  known,  and  because  of  the 
darkness,  many  students  have  boldly  stumbled  for- 
ward with  theories  equally  lacking  in  proof  or  dis- 
proof. Such  speculation  was  rife  even  before  the 
recent  extended  discoveries  and  studies  of  Sven 
Hedin  and  Dr.  Stein.  While  the  latter  has  not,  so 


262  Tibet  and  Turkestan 

far  as  I  know,  expressed  himself  on  that  point,  it 
has  seemed  to  me  that  the  facial  types  shown  in 
certain  statues  found  by  him,  and  the  mental  type 
disclosed  by  some  of  the  recovered  writings,  point  to 
a  race  not  Mongol  as  having  constituted  the  superior 
and  clerical  element  of  the  Khotanese  inhabitants 
as  early  as  the  beginning  of  our  era.  Yet,  on  the 
other  hand,  little  has  been  found  to  cause  the  temple 
ornamentation  or  religious  literature  to  be  accepted 
as  proper  expressions  of  the  general  genius  of  the 
people. 

Religious  antiquities,  coming  from  an  era  just 
following  the  acceptance  of  a  new  faith  by  a  con- 
verted people,  must  not  be  lightly  adopted  as  evi- 
dence in  the  establishment  of  racial  affinities.  The 
mere  susceptibility  to  Aryan  influences,  as  shown  by 
the  various  "finds"  in  the  buried  cities,  hints  of  a 
certain  docility  and  suppleness  which  may  mark  any 
people  dwelling  in  the  dense  and  enervating  condi- 
tions of  oasis  life ;  while  the  absence  of  original  work 
in  any  developed  art  suggests  affinity  with  the  Mon- 
gol who  has  ever  been  extremely  indifferent  to  all 
that  may  be  known  to  us  as  classic  influence.  The 
few  facts  available  to  us  for  reconstructing  this  pe- 
riod in  Turkestan  seem  entirely  consistent  with  the 
theory  that  the  invaders  of  Tartar-Mongol  blood 
were  gradually  absorbed  by  their  more  numerous  and 
more  civilised  victims,  while  the  resulting  composite 
race  became,  for  a  time,  at  least,  of  tougher  fibre, 
but  not  insensible  to  the  artistic  and  religious  im- 
pulses reaching  it  from  the  south-west  or  west,  and 
which,  even  before  the  coming  of  the  Yue-che,  had 
already  influenced  the  Tarim  civilisation. 


Sketch  of  History  of  Turkestan    263 

Many  students  indeed  would  suppose,  not  merely 
Aryan  (Graeco-Bactrian  or  Graeco-Indian)  influence, 
such  as  might  be  exerted  by  the  incoming  of  a  few 
enlightened  teachers  or  great  merchants ;  but  would 
trace  the  very  origin  of  the  Tarim  race  itself  to  some 
western  or  south-western  source.  A  reference  to 
Darius's  dreams  of  conquest  and  colonisation  in  the 
farthest  East  is  thought  to  point  the  way  toward  a 
theory  of  Iranian  ancestry.  The  frequent  occur- 
rence of  monkey  images  in  clay  among  the  an- 
tiquities taken  from  Boresan,  about  three  miles  from 
Khotan,  suggests  a  popular  familiarity  with  Macca- 
cus  Semnopithicus,  an  animal  commonly  found  to  the 
south  of  the  Himalayas.  This  toy,  together  with 
the  similarity  of  head-dress  .shown  in  small  terra- 
cotta images  to  that  known  in  Northern  India  sev- 
eral centuries  before  Christ  are  seized  upon  to  give 
Hindu- Aryan  grandfathers  to  the  Tarim  people. 
The  idealised  lion-faces  (see  p.  140)  are  also  numer- 
ous at  Boresan ;  those  from  which  the  illustrations 
are  made  were  picked  up  by  the  natives  from  some 
new-cut  face  of  the  loess,  formed  by  the  wandering 
current  of  the  river.  These  lion-faces  do  duty  as 
proofs  of  Mesopotamian  influence,  or,  to  the  ad- 
herents of  Hebraic  ideas,  of  Mesopotamian  origin. 
The  lion  is  not  known  in  Turkestan.  Its  image  is 
everywhere — even  in  snowy  Tibet  it  is  a  common 
architectural  ornament. 

An  inspection  of  toy-shops  or  bric-a-brac  counters 
in  London  or  New  York  might,  by  reasoning  similar 
to  that  just  recorded,  result  in  bringing  us  all  from 
Africa — home  of  the  menageries  which,  in  paste- 
board and  in  flesh,  have  furnished  our  childish  or 


264  Tibet  and  Turkestan 

our  grown-up  curiosity  with  its  choicest  satisfac- 
tion. Western  influence,  beginning  probably  not 
later  than  the  Alexandrian  conquests,  seems  to  me 
well  established ;  western  origin  of  the  body  of  the 
people  of  that  age  seems  to  me  not  established,  and 
even  improbable. 

The  body  of  the  people  were  perhaps  always,  as 
now,  related  in  blood  to  the  Mongol-Tartar  family 
— well  represented  by  their  near  neighbours  of  the 
mountains,  the  shepherd  Kirghiz.  Some  of  these 
would  gradually  form  permanent  settlements  in  the 
foot-hills  of  the  great  ranges,  where  grazing  and 
irrigation-agriculture  could  be  combined.  Then  as 
the  knowledge  of  the  latter  method  grew,  its  ex- 
tensions would  form  the  great  oases,  having  perma- 
nent cities,  which  would  become  permanent  marts. 
To  the  modification  of  type  due  to  this  change  in 
occupation  and  physical  surroundings  would  be 
added  the  blood  change  due  to  the  incoming  of 
traders  from  other  lands.  A  nomadic  people  is  of 
stable  type — mixture  of  blood  being  almost  impos- 
sible. But  no  city-dwelling  people,  having  markets 
even  measurably  open  to  the  world,  can  long  remain 
of  pure  stock. 

Returning  to  the  Yue-che  invasion,  and  assuming 
it  to  have  been  followed  by  a  period  of  assimilation 
of  victor  by  vanquished,  the  two  having  an  under- 
lying kinship,  antedating  the  fixed  settlements  of 
the  Tarim  people,  and  postdating  their  uplift  by 
Aryan  influence,  we  come,  in  the  Chinese  chronicles, 
to  a  conquest  by  the  Chinese  themselves.  That 
was  the  beginning  of  a  hold  upon  Kashgaria  which 
has  continued,  sometimes  shadow,  sometimes  sub- 


<U 


Sketch  of  History  of  Turkestan     265 

stance,  until  to-day.  This  conquest  is  definitely 
placed  in  the  first  century  of  our  era.  It  may  have 
been  preceded  by  an  intermediate  wave  of  Mongols 
— the  Hueng-nu  (Huns)  who  were  the  cousins  and 
enemies  of  the  Yue-che.  Indeed  the  earlier  move- 
ment of  the  Yue-che  was  due  to  the  pressure  upon 
them  by  the  Hueng-nu,  who  were  constant  dis- 
turbers of  the  peace  on  China's  north-eastern  fron- 
tier until,  shortly  before  the  date  last  mentioned, 
they  had  been  worsted  by  the  Emperor's  armies  and 
were  streaming  westward,  eventually  to  work  their 
fatal  course  across  Europe.  They  moved  chiefly 
along  the  easier  line  through  Dzungaria,  north  of 
Turkestan;  but  it  is  not  improbable  that  they  sent 
minor  streams  southward  to  infiltrate  among  the 
populations  which  had  been  vanquished  by  those 
whom  they  themselves  had  vanquished  one  or  two 
centuries  earlier.  Such  additions  (probably  not  nu- 
merous), to  the  Tarim  people  might  have  disturbed 
some  of  its  centres,  but  would  not  have  seriously 
altered  the  general  racial  status.  Nor  indeed  does 
this  status  seem  to  have  been  largely  affected  by  the 
advent  of  the  civilised  Chinese  for  whom  this  distant 
region  was  but  a  military  frontier  and  a  tribute-field, 
not  a  region  of  colonisation.  Even  now,  when  pop- 
ulation density  in  China  proper  is  much  greater 
than  it  was  two  thousand  years  ago,  the  number  of 
resident  Chinese  in  Turkestan  is  small.  The  prin- 
cipal officials,  Manchu-Chinese,  bring  their  families 
with  them  and  return  to  their  proper  homes  as  do 
the  English  from  India. 

But  this  laying  hold  upon  a  distant  province  on 
the  other  side  of   the   interior  desert   caused   the 


266  Tibet  and  Turkestan 

hastening  of  a  momentous  change  in  the  great  Em- 
pire. It  was  here  that  the  Chinese  came  into  close 
contact  with  Buddhism,  which  had  come  over  the 
snowy  mountains  to  call  men's  minds  away  from 
this  sorrowful  world  of  desire. 

The  devoted  missionaries  from  India  would 
doubtless  have  found  their  way  across  nature's 
hazards  to  the  multitudes  who  swarmed  on  the 
eastern  ocean,  even  if  the  Tarim  basin  had  not 
already  heard  the  gospel  and  had  now  become  a 
Chinese  province.  But  the  facilitation  of  missionary 
effort,  due  to  such  conditions,  is  obvious,  and  may 
have  meant  centuries,  rather  than  decades,  in  the 
progress  of  one  of  the  world's  most  important  re- 
ligious movements. 

Burmah,  Siam,  and  Tibet  offered  possible  paths 
to  the  missionary  who  would  go  from  India  to 
China ;  but  they  were  themselves  converted  only  in 
the  fifth,  sixth,  and  seventh  century,  respectively. 
Nor  did  the  way  through  Turkestan  long  remain 
open.  Shortly  after  China  had  received  the  words 
of  peace,  all  intercourse  with  Turkestan  was  much 
disturbed  by  the  violence  of  the  times — the  Mon- 
gols intruding  themselves  between  China  and  her 
distant  province.  Had  the  Buddhist  propaganda 
not  been  made  just  when  it  was,  Christianity  might 
have  disputed,  centuries  ago,  the  great  field  in 
which  now  its  labours  yield  so  little  fruit. 

Behold  the  complexity  of  things :  Mongolian  no- 
mads, the  Hueng-nu,  attack  the  settled  Chinese 
and  are  repulsed.  Then  they  attack  neighbouring 
tribes,  and  are  successful,  driving  their  victims  to 
seek  new  homes  afar  off.  Later  they  again  attack 


Sketch  of  History  of  Turkestan     267 

the  Chinese,  who  disperse  them  and  follow  the  newly 
opened  way  westward  to  conquer  a  country,  East 
Turkestan,  which  had  first  been  conquered  by  those 
whom  the  Hueng-nu  had  dispossessed.  This  coun- 
try had  received  Buddhist  missionaries,  who  con- 
vert the  victorious  Chinese,  adding  many  millions 
to  those  who  believe  that  Gautama  found  the 
great  Deliverance  through  the  great  Renunciation. 
In  a  little  while  the  intimate  coming  and  going 
through  Kashgaria  is  interrupted;  China  loses  its 
hold,  but  the  seed  is  sown;  and  in  399,  318,  and 
629  A.D.  Chinese  Buddhist  pilgrims,  Fa-hien,  Song- 
Yang,  and  Weng  T'sang,  respectively,  pass  through 
Turkestan  to  visit  Indian  shrines  made  sacred  to 
them  through  knowledge  of  the  Teacher,  and  leave 
to  curious  generations  such  scant  knowledge  of  the 
country  as  the  troubled  times  permitted.  Mean- 
while, ere  the  first  of  these  pilgrims  had  set  his  face 
westward,  Christianity  had  mounted  the  throne 
of  the  Eastern  Roman  Empire;  and  while  Weng 
T'sang  was  drinking  his  soul's  fill  at  fountain-spots 
of  Buddhist  worship,  his  own  Emperor  was  cour- 
teously receiving  a  Christian  missionary  at  the 
national  capital.  Nor  had  Mohammedanism  yet 
uttered  its  world-wide  cry,  the  Prophet  being  still 
but  a  struggling  Arab  preacher.  But  the  centuries 
which  had  passed  since  the  words  of  the  Meditative 
One  had  been  carried  over  the  Himalayas,  from 
oasis  to  oasis,  and  across  the  wide  desert  to 
China's  heart,  had  now  given  to  Gautama's  memory 
a  veneration  which  their  successors  have  not  yet 
destroyed. 

The   Christian  missionaries  have    in    later    days 


268  Tibet  and  Turkestan 

renewed  the  work  of  O-lo-peen,  the  Nestorian  of 
the  seventh  century ;  Islam  has  with  the  sword  con- 
quered the  Turkestan  region,  which  was  the  eastern 
gate  of  Buddhism,  and  it  raises  its  mosques  in  many 
a  village  of  China's  sacred  soil,  yet  the  millions  of 
the  great  Empire  are  Buddhists,  not  good  ones — for 
it  is  hard,  so  hard,  to  be  a  good  Buddhist — but 
Buddhists  as  Smith  and  Jones  are  Christians. 

Shortly  after  the  journey  of  Weng  T'sang,  that 
is,  about  the  year  640  A.D.,  the  administration  of 
Turkestan  was  again  firmly  in  the  hands  of  the 
Chinese  officials,  only  to  be  disturbed  by  marauding 
bands  of  Tibetans ;  whether  from  the  western  Ladak 
country,  relatively  near,  or  from  the  Lhasa  country, 
relatively  far,  seems  not  to  be  known.  The  centre 
of  Tibetan  power  was  in  the  East,  but  the  newly 
conquered  Ladak  country  may  have  served  as  the 
base  of  operations  and  recruiting  depot  for  this  dash 
against  Kashgaria.  This  probably  meant  nothing 
more  than  the  killing  of  some  thousands  and  the 
maiming  of  some  other  thousands  of  field-workers 
and  shopkeepers — a  too  frequent  occurrence  in  the 
world's  history  to  cause  any  shudders  when  sepa- 
rated from  us  by  thirteen  centuries  and  seven  thou- 
sand miles.  The  Chinese  soon  drove  out  the  Tibetans 
(whose  leaders,  it  seems,  were  but  a  few  generations 
down  from  Western  China)  and  next  had  to  contend 
with  the  Mohammedan  power  which  had  established 
itself,  at  the  beginning  of  the  eighth  century,  in  all 
the  Samarcand  region,  west  of  Kashgaria.  The 
Chinese  bond  seems  to  have  been  strong  enough  in 
716  A.D.  to  permit  a  troubled  Emperor  to  call  upon 
Kashgaria — and  even  far  Bokhara — for  troops  to 


Sketch  of  History  of  Turkestan     269 

aid  in  the  overthrow  of  a  mighty  rebel  against  the 
throne.  There  followed  other  rude  attacks  from 
Tibetans,  who  for  a  time  threw  themselves  across 
Western  China,  cutting  communication  with  Tur- 
kestan. Again  a  vigorous  ruler  was  born  into  the 
Imperial  throne  or  a  vigorous  usurper  chanced  to 
seize  it ;  whereupon  the  annoying  Tibetans  were 
hurled  back  to  their  lonely  seats.  A  little  later, 
another  Mongol  people,  invading  from  the  north, 
grasped  the  sheep-prey  which  was  the  desire  of 
many  wolves.  These  were  the  Hoi-he  or  Hu-he, 
doubtless  only  another  branch  of  that  puzzling, 
widespread  family,  whose  kaleidoscopic  marches 
and  countermarches  across  Asia  have  given  to  his- 
torians a  fine  juggling  exercise  with  shifting  names 
— Mongols,  Tartars,  Hueng-nu,  Yue-che,  Uigurs, 
Tanguts,  Ephthalites,  Tu-Kiu,  Hoi-He,  Kirghiz, 
Kalmuk. 

From  the  Chinese  Wall  to  the  Dnieper,  from  the 
Tibetan  frontier  to  the  Arctic  Zone,  they  are  seen 
righting  each  other;  overrunning  the  borders  of 
civilisation ;  upsetting  the  beginnings  of  order  which 
some  of  their  own  blood  may  have  established ; 
powerful  while  yet  fresh  from  the  steppe  or  the 
mountain-side;  easily  corrupted  by  contact  with 
civil  luxury;  forming  widespread  and  ephemeral 
organisations  which  passed  leaving  no  traces  within 
their  bounds  and  only  blood  to  mark  their  excur- 
sions ; '  generally  careless  about  religious  matters ; 
building  little  and  moving  much ;  they  are  the  will- 
o'-the-wisp  of  Asian  history.  And  the  story  of 
Turkestan  is  the  story  of  one  inroad  after  another, 
ever  with  reversion  to  China, 


270  Tibet  and  Turkestan 

These  Hu-he  were  followed  by  the  Kara-Kitai, 
in  the  eleventh  century;  then  came  the  desolation 
of  Jenghiz  Khan.  He  massacred  freely,  but  he  and 
his  free-thinking  family  were  a  protection  against 
the  fanatic  proselyting-by-violence  of  the  Moham- 
medan states  on  the  west  of  the  Alai'  Mountains; 
Islam,  however,  steadily  gained  ground  throughout 
Central  Asia,  and  ere  many  centuries  had  passed 
persecution  ceased  because  of  a  happy  uniformity 
of  sentiment. 

In  the  sway  of  empire  hither  and  thither,  Kashgar 
once,  in  the  fourteenth  century,  enjoyed  the  perilous 
distinction  of  being  the  capital  of  Tughlak  Timour. 
Some  regal  attention,  in  the  way  of  bloodshed,  it 
also  received  from  the  great  Tamerlane.  Then,  as 
the  centuries  rolled  by  without  producing  other 
universal  tyrants,  the  priesthood,  the  letter-worship- 
ping Khojas  from  Bokhara's  schools,  seem  to  have 
usurped  the  State,  until,  in  the  seventeenth  century, 
a  Kalmuk  power  northward  from  Kashgaria  entered 
to  control  the  struggle  of  priest-ridden  factions,  and 
at  last,  about  the  time  America  was  preparing  to 
fight  for  independence,  Turkestan  sank  back  into 
the  arms  of  China,  whose  battalions  had  decimated 
Dzungaria  and  spared  not  the  resisting  zealots  of 
Kashgaria.  It  seems  not  improbable  that  some- 
thing of  protection  for  the  cities  remaining  in  the 
Kashgar-Khotan  district  resulted  from  that  desic- 
cation which,  by  destroying  the  towns  lying  nearer 
to  Lob-nor,  rendered  more  difficult  the  inroads 
of  Mongolian  hordes  from  the  north-east.  These 
would  be  forced  to  a  more  northern  route  for  west- 
ward migrations,  leaving  the  southern  region  to  a 


Sketch  of  History  of  Turkestan    271 

slower,  kinder,  but  surer  desolation  than  their 
bloody  swords  could  make. 

That  the  desiccation  in  itself  was  the  cause  of 
great  movements  which  reached  and  radically  af- 
fected Europe  has  been  a  favourite  suggestion  of 
several  writers.  To  me  it  seems  improbable.  The 
destructions  that  were  cataclysmic  (a  few  such  are 
in  Khotan  tradition)  would  not  furnish  emigrants, 
— only  corpses.  Those  that  were  slow  would  not 
extrude  large  numbers  at  the  same  time  but  would 
cause  some  gradual  displacement  of  population  to 
neighbouring  oases  and  some  decimation  by  dimin- 
ishment  of  food-supply.  The  fixed  inhabitants  of 
such  regions,  moreover,  were  not  of  the  stuff  of 
which  great  migrations  are  made. 

On  the  other  hand  it  may  be  urged  that,  in  so  far 
as  this  desiccation  limited  the  regions  within  which 
war-driven  shepherds  of  the  north-east  might  find 
plunder  and  ultimately  fixed  seats,  it  may  have 
contributed  to  the  force  which  urged  them  farther 
westward.  And  further,  in  so  far  as  the  Tarim 
basin  held  nomad  populations,  these  might,  in  the 
space  of  a  few  years,  find  themselves  dispossessed 
of  grazing  lands  by  the  encroaching  sands, — and 
these  nomads  might  thus  join  the  westward-ho! 
movement ;  but  there  is  no  evidence  that  such 
people  were  at  any  time  numerous  enough  in  the 
doomed  area  to  become  in  themselves  conquering 
armies. 

The  wars  which  followed  during  the  nineteenth 
century,  quite  up  to  our  own  time,  were  generally 
religious  rebellions,  often  fomented  across  the 
mountains  in  Bokhara.  At  the  end  of  one  such 


272  Tibet  and  Turkestan 

failing  effort  nearly  a  hundred  thousand  people  fled 
over  the  mountains  (or  died  while  trying),  in  order 
to  join  their  kindred  people  in  West  Turkestan. 
The  last  of  these  dramatic  struggles  began  in  1864; 
the  Chinese  were  forced  out  of  Dzungaria,  and  a  few 
years  later  Kashgaria  was  in  the  power  of  Yakoob 
Beg,  a  name  which  has  a  familiar  sound  to  ears  of  our 
generation.  His  bloody  exploits  were  known  even 
to  the  European  world,  and  his  sudden  elevation  to 
regal  power  was  the  theme  of  much  admiring  com- 
ment. But  his  glory  was  short.  Back  came  the 
Chinese  and  down  went  Yakoob  Beg,  his  sun  setting 
in  a  sea  of  blood. 

It  was  scarce  thirty  years  ago  that  the  Chinese 
Peace  was  re-established,  yet  the  province  is  now 
ruled  almost  without  a  semblance  of  military  power. 
It  seems  to  have  been  immemorially  thus.  When 
the  fire  of  rebellion  flames,  the  great  Empire  throws 
upon  it  quenching  floods  from  its  bottomless  well 
of  humanity,  and  then  awaits  the  next  conflagration. 
Something  there  is  in  this  of  justice — the  genera- 
tions which  yield  are  not  burdened  with  the  support 
of  the  armies  of  "benevolent  assimilation,"  while 
those  who  would  strike  at  the  great  leviathan  are 
slaughtered  as  soon  as  armies  may  be  brought  from 
the  over-teeming  fields  within  the  wall. 

And  now  the  long  drama,  with  an  all-Asia  caste, 
is  ended.  When  the  curtain  next  rises  we  see 
Europe  on  the  stage  modestly  attired  as  a  consul 
and  having  about  her  a  handful  of  soldiers,  merely 
guards,  to  preserve  her  dignity  from  breach.  Be- 
hold her  in  constant  pour  parler  with  the  former 
heroine  of  the  play — the  fair  maid  from  far  Cathay, 


Sketch  of  History  of  Turkestan    273 

while  round  about  them  the  rabble  of  subjects  awk- 
wardly, supinely,  are  massed,  awaiting  the  pleasure 
of  the  gods  to  determine  the  rivalry  which  cannot 
be  hid  by  ceremony.  These  people  have  ever  been 
puppets.  They  have  submitted  to  their  own  history 
rather  than  enacted  it,  nor  have  they  had  the  wit 
worthily  to  record  their  woes  or  their  weal.  We 
know  their  past  chiefly  through  the  writings  of  the 
great  civilising  power,  China. 


APPENDIX  A 

GEOLOGICAL  AND    MINOR   GEOGRAPHICAL  CONSID- 
ERATIONS  IN  TIBET  AND   TURKESTAN 

Partly  from  a  Paper  read  before  the  Royal  Geographical  Society, 
February  8,  1904. 

WHILE  ascending  the  mountains  from  Polu,  one 
sees  rapidly  at  work  the  forces  of  disintegration 
attacking  the  vast  masses  of  exposed  friable  material. 
Slates,  shales,  conglomerates,  loose  sandstones — such 
are  the  abounding  substances  which  the  torrents  wear 
away.  One  also  sees  some  large  pebbles  of  the  harder 
materials  scarcely  to  be  found  now  represented  by  the 
strata  above  them  in  situ.  Great  as  are  these  changes 
now,  they  must  be  pigmy  efforts  compared  to  the  titanic 
movements  of  the  past.  On  the  plateau  one  sees  and 
travels  in  veritable  rivers  of  sand;  its  large  limits  mark 
the  boundaries  of  some  great  slow  stream  whose  waters 
came  down  from  vanished  heights.  Again,  where  the 
slope  is  greater,  the  course  of  a  mighty  torrent  is  marked 
by  close-packed,  rounded  boulders.  In  one  case,  we 
followed  the  bank  of  such  a  silent  river  of  stones  to  an 
elevation  of  eighteen  thousand  feet,  where  a  flat  area 
about  three  miles  long  showed  boulders  laid  so  accurately 
to  the  level,  so  cemented  by  sand,  sometimes  so  regu- 
larly formed  in  circles,  that  one  would  have  thought  it  a 
pavement  of  giants  leading  to  the  foundations  of  huge 
temples.  Save,  perhaps,  in  some  stretches  of  the  upper 
Blue  Nile,  I  have  never  seen  a  stream  having  at  the  same 

274 


Appendix  A  275 

time  the  width,  volume,  and  velocity  suggested  by  these 
boulders,  now  for  ever  dry.  Many  of  them  seemed  to 
be  granitic,  though  granite  strata  were  not  seen  in  the 
neighbouring  heights,  which  here — as  generally  across 
the  Aksai  Chin — rose  to  an  elevation  of  from  one  thou- 
sand to  three  thousand  feet  above  the  flat  areas.  The 
existence  of  such  tremendous  hydraulic  force  acting  on 
materials  no  longer  seen  in  the  position  of  upheaval,  hints 
of  the  degradation  of  complete  strata  of  the  towering 
masses  that  have  been  crumbled  from  a  uniform  eleva- 
tion perhaps  not  less  than  that  of  Mount  Everest.  When 
one  considers  the  wide-stretching  sands  of  all  Central 
Asia  and  the  empire  valleys  of  India  as  being  probable 
deposits  from  these  heights,  the  supposition  just  made 
seems  not  over-bold.  There  is  thus  imaged  to  the  eye 
of  the  imagination  a  vast  mound  one  thousand  miles  in 
length,  five  hundred  miles  in  breadth,  and  five  miles  or 
six  miles  in  height  above  the  sea.  Its  southern  front 
and  portions  of  its  flanks  are  exposed,  with  varying 
directness,  to  moisture-laden  winds  from  the  great  seas. 
Here  then  the  secular  attack  upon  the  mound  will  be  most 
fierce.  If  the  first  snows  that  fall  on  the  plateau's  top 
are  frozen  by  perennial  cold  into  a  shield  protecting 
against  hydraulic  action — yet  the  lower  vertical  or  in- 
clined surfaces  will  be  rapidly  eaten  away,  and  in  their 
fall  the  higher  snow-covered  portions  are  soon  involved. 
The  debris  is  partly  swept  into  the  engulfing  sea,  never 
to  be  seen  again — partly  deposited  as  new  shore-line, 
varied  in  direction  by  secret  ocean  currents;  and  partly 
left  as  high,  secondary  formations,  constituting  a  rough 
ramp, — cut  by  a  hundred  streams, — yet  gradually  rising 
from  plain  to  plateau.  On  the  northern  slope,  looking 
toward  the  vast  interior,  which  received  only  the  poor 
precipitation  coming  southward  from  Arctic  waters  and 
the  scant  meltings  of  the  plateau's  snows,  the  process  of 


276  Tibet  and  Turkestan 

destruction  must  be  much  slower;  the  northern  body  of 
the  plateau  will  hold  a  greater  elevation  than  the  south- 
ern, and  the  northern  face  of  the  great  uplift  will  be 
more  nearly  vertical.  (Hence  it  is  that  history  must 
record  the  giving  over  of  Tibet  to  a  southern,  not  a 
northern  power.) 

As  time  goes  on  this  giant  mound  must  grow  smaller 
in  every  dimension — for  Neptune  will  have  it  that  all  the 
mountains  of  the  earth  shall  be  dragged  down  to  the  sea 
— and  he  sends  up  hourly  millions  of  little  rain-drop 
coolies  who  dig  the  very  rocks  away.  If  the  structure 
of  such  a  great  mass  be  relatively  homogeneous,  the 
wear  will  be  less  ragged,  particularly  on  the  wide  top,  at 
considerable  distance  from  the  muchrdisturbed  edges. 
But  if  there  be  somewhere  a  line  of  soft  material,  or  if 
the  tilt  of  the  surface,  however  small,  shall  chance  to 
throw  considerable  volumes  of  water  along  a  given  line, 
even  of  average  hardness,  then  we  shall  find  a  great  de- 
pression— as  that  of  the  Blue  Nile,  whose  steep  gorge 
descends  five  thousand  feet  below  the  neighbouring 
plateau  elevation — yet  the  river-bed  is  still  four  thousand 
feet  above  sea.  And  so  here  in  Tibet  the  long  line  of 
the  Tsang-Po,  or  upper  Brahmaputra,  flowing  in  a  de- 
pression which  begins  many  miles  away  on  either  side  of 
it,  lies  also  about  five  thousand  feet  below  the  northern 
(relatively  undisturbed)  plateau,  and  about  eleven  thou- 
sand feet  above  sea-level.  It  leaves  to  the  south,  border- 
ing its  east  and  west  course,  high  lands  and  great  peaks 
ere  the  true  descending  ramp  be  met. 

Such  a  gash  having  been  formed,  the  process  of  denud- 
ation is  hastened,  because  the  width  of  level  table-land 
is  diminished,  and  the  small  surface  streams  become  less 
sluggish.  Wherever  the  elevation  has  been  so  lessened 
that  snow-coverings  are  removed  by  summer  warmth, 
there  enters  another  element  tending  to  quick  removal 


Appendix  A  277 

— the  direct  action  of  water  being  substituted  for  the 
under-cutting,  which  must,  for  extreme  elevations,  be 
almost  the  only  possible  method  of  attack.  One  sees 
even  now  throughout  the  mountains  we  traversed  this 
process  constantly  at  work,  producing  thousands  of  land- 
slides—  a  favourite  sport  of  the  spirits  that  inhabit 
mountains  geologically  young— and  particularly  those 
that  are  high  enough  to  have  their  upper  portions  covered 
all  the  year  round,  or  for  a  long  season.  They  change 
watercourses  and  caravan  routes,  give  birth  to  short- 
lived lakes  which  burst  their  sudden  bounds  and  mad- 
deningly confuse  the  exposed  strata. 

Snow  appears  on  the  Kuen  Lun  range  at  an  altitude 
of  about  14,500  feet,  and  at  about  16,500  on  the  moun- 
tains rising  from  the  plateau,  the  level  spaces  of  which, 
in  September  and  October,  are  substantially  clear.  The 
light  snowfalls,  such  as  we  experienced,  were  quickly 
evaporated  during  the  warmer  hours  of  the  day  by  the 
fierce  winds  blowing  quite  regularly  from  the  south-west, 
and  constituting  one  of  the  serious  hardships  of  travel. 

A  great  part  of  the  whole  plateau  is  therefore  exposed 
to  direct  erosion.  The  effect  near  the  edges  of  the  plain 
is  marked.  In  the  interior,  the  water  being  of  small 
volume,  the  streams  meander  hither  and  thither,  cur- 
rent scarcely  observable,  and  form  shallow  lakes  which 
hold  for  a  time  that  small  part  of  the  flow  which  has  not 
been  drunken  by  the  thirsty  sands.  Such  tremendous 
action  of  the  past,  of  which  we  found  the  witness  above 
described,  has  not,  to  my  knowledge,  been  discussed  by 
other  travellers.  I  am  therefore  the  less  confident  in 
theorising  about  it — yet  suggest  that,  in  spite  of  a  prob- 
ably constant  precipitation  of  snow  and  rain,  the  summe'r- 
volumes  of  these  plateau  streams  may  have  been  vastly 
larger  when  the  area  above  eighteen  thousand  feet  was 
much  greater,  thus  permitting  an  accumulation  of  winter 


278  Tibet  and  Turkestan 

snow  far  exceeding  the  present  deposit,  and  this  ac- 
cumulation then  yielded,  under  the  influence  of  the 
summer's  midday  heats,  those  mighty  torrents  which 
must  have  existed  to  do  the  work  which  has  been  done. 

Volcanic  action  has  not  been  of  wide  extent.  Indeed, 
one  sees  so  little  of  it  along  the  whole  line  traversed  by 
us  over  the  Alaf,  Kuen  Lun,  Karakoram,  and  Himalaya 
ranges,  that  I  was  the  more  forcibly  struck  by  the  two 
areas  in  which  this  action  is  unmistakable.  One  is  near 
Lake  Sarakul,  and  is  about  five  miles  square.  Within 
that  area  one  may  see  several  true  craters  and  number- 
less black,  tortured  masses  rising  about  seventy-five  feet 
above  the  surrounding  coarse  sand.  On  the  edge  of  this 
area  was  another  smaller  one  showing  petrifaction  of  all 
the  stems  and  roots  of  a  hardy  grass.  There  was  nothing 
to  indicate  the  continuation  of  any  process  of  infiltration 
to  account  for  the  petrifaction,  though  possibly  the  area, 
which  lay  four  miles  from  a  sulphurous  lake,  may  at  times 
be  flooded. 

The  second  volcanic  region  was  about  forty  miles 
south  of  the  first.  Here  the  surface  of  the  narrow  valley 
was  covered,  for  a  distance  of  several  miles,  with  char- 
acteristic volcanic  boulders,  and  outcroppings  of  lava 
in  mass  showed  in  the  sides  of  the  confining  heights. 
In  the  great  east-and-west  valley,  however,  nothing  is 
seen  save  what  may  be  attributed  to  the  ordinary  effects 
of  erosion.  That  which  is  particularly  noted  here,  how- 
ever, is  the  marked  difference  in  material  and  appear- 
ance between  the  two  chains  limiting  the  valley.  That 
on  the  north  is  a  sort  of  double  chain,  presenting  toward 
the  valley  a  front  of  foot-hills,  black  or  dark  greyish  in 
colour,  and  showing  the  rounded  forms  that  have  been 
subjected  to  erosive  action  for  a  period  relatively  long. 
Behind  them,  and  sometimes  concealed  by  them  if  the 
intervening  distance  were  considerable,  rose  the  main 


Appendix  A  279 

• 

chain,  always  snow-capped,  and  also  showing  rounded 
characteristic  smooth  forms.  This  chain  sometimes  re- 
ceded from  the  line  parallel  to  our  route,  but  seemed 
never  to  lose  its  continuity  until  merged  in  the  Kara- 
koram  range. 

On  the  south  side  the  colour  was  bright  brick-red,  the 
forms  sharp,  turret-like,  fantastic,  suggesting  relatively 
short  and  violent  hydraulic  action.  So  great  was  the 
difference  that  I  was  led  to  suppose  the  southern  chain 
may  have  resulted  from  some  later  earth-movement  than 
that  which  gave  birth  to  the  northern  range.  These  two 
characteristic  forms  and  colours  are  found  mingled  in 
inextricable  confusion  at  both  ends  of  the  valley ;  and, 
again,  the  chapels,  towers,  and  minarets  of  red  appeared 
along  the  short  valley  which  we  ascended  near  Camp 
Purgatory.  This  appearance  has  probably  given  rise  to 
the  misplaced  name  Kizil  Jilga,  shown  farther  south  on 
existing  maps.  The  Kirghiz  had  never  heard  of  this 
name  as  belonging  to  this  locality,  nor,  indeed,  of  any 
of  the  names  shown  on  the  R.G.S.  or  the  latest  Russian 
map,  as  along  and  near  the  Karakash.  They  applied 
the  name  Kizil  Jilga  to  a  big  red  mountain  on  the  Kara- 
koram  route.  As  in  all  this  region  there  are  no  inhabi- 
tants other  than  the  Kirghiz  met  by  us,  it  would  perhaps 
be  well  to  omit  these  noms  de  fantaisie  from  future  maps. 
The  two  lakes  shown  on  our  route  deserve,  on  the  other 
hand,  that  some  name  be  given  them.  One,  of  fresh 
water,  is  possibly  that  called  Lake  Lighten  by  Wellby. 
The  other  lake  is  salt,  and  has  been  visited  by  natives, 
we  thought,  because  a  trail  was  seen  near  it,  which  we 
tried  to  follow,  but  vainly, — it  gradually  disappeared  in 
the  sands.  Perhaps  it  had  been  made  only  by  wild  yak 
and  wild  horses.  A  remarkable  lowering  in  the  level  of 
the  lake  seems  to  have  taken  place  in  recent  years. 
Well-defined  banks  stand  up  about  fifteen  feet  from  the 


280  Tibet  and  Turkestan 

general  level  of  the  sand  now  separating  them  from  the 
water's  edge — sometimes  by  a  distance  of  two  miles  or 
more.  These  banks  are  still  sharply  defined,  suggesting 
that  only  a  few  years  have  passed  since  they  were  filled. 
No  such  affluents  were  seen  as  are  shown  on  the  latest 
Russian  map  in  connection  with  a  lake  occupying  nearly 
the  position  given  by  my  notes  to  this  sheet  of  salt  water. 
Information  concerning  the  lake,  and  concerning  the 
mountain  system  of  Aksai  Chin,  has  doubtless  hereto- 
fore been  taken  only  from  the  reports  of  natives.  The 
error  in  respect  to  the  mountains  is  considerable.  The 
dominating  chain  is  not  north  and  south,  as  heretofore 
shown,  but  there  are  two  east-and-west  chains,  generally 
parallel  to  the  Kuen  Lun.  The  first  lake  and  the  salt 
lake  both  lie  closely  ensconced  in  bounding  hills  of  the 
valley,  which  narrows  at  these  points.  Heretofore  they 
are  shown  as  in  open  plains. 

Another  correction  of  some  importance  has  to  do  with 
the  course  of  the  Karakash,  which  has  been  shown  here- 
tofore as  extending  sixty  miles  or  more  farther  south 
than  is  the  fact.  We  chanced  to  come  into  the  valley  of 
this  stream  above  its  permanent  sources,  which  come  up 
out  of  the  sand.  There  was  seen,  indeed,  a  small  break 
in  the  valley  wall,  corresponding  to  the  point  where  the 
assumed  southern  extension  appears  on  older  maps.  But 
this  opening  was  seen  to  have  a  steep  incline  upward, 
and  no  water  came  from  it.  Nor  can  a  considerable 
volume  come  at  any  time,  as  just  below  this  point  the 
valley  was  crossed  completely,  from  hill  to  hill,  by  a 
very  curious  line  of  small  stone  monuments,  about  two 
feet  apart,  and  consisting  of  small  boulders  piled  about 
a  foot  high. 


APPENDIX  B 

FROM    DISCUSSION    OF    THE    PAPER    BEFORE    THE 
ROYAL  GEOGRAPHICAL  SOCIETY,    FEBRUARY 

8,  1904 

AFTER  the  reading  of  the  paper — 
Sir  THOMAS  HOLDICH  ':  Mr.  Crosby  has  given  us 
a  very  vivid  description  of  the  desolate  nature  of  one  of 
the  remote  corners  of  Tibet  up  in  the  extreme  north-west, 
and  he  has  expressed  an  opinion,  which  I  think  we  most  of 
us  share,  that  it  is  absolutely  impossible  for  any  large 
party,  any  force  of  any  size,  to  journey  from  north  to 
south  across  the  wild  and  bleak  and  desolate  region  of 
the  northern  half  of  Tibet  down  into  the  southern,  which 
is  of  a  very  different  character — the  valley  of  the  upper 
Brahmaputra.  But  perhaps  it  will  be  interesting  to 
you  to  know  that  this  question  as  to  the  feasibility  of 
crossing  the  Alai  Mountains  was  discussed  four  hundred 
years  ago  just  as  keenly  as  it  is  discussed  now.  Just 
about  the  same  time  that  the  Emperor  Baber  was  es- 
tablishing the  Mongol  dynasty  in  India,  a  general  of 
his,  who  was  much  connected  with  Central  Asian  affairs, 
discussed  the  question  as  to  whether  it  was  possible  to 
reach  Kashmir  by  the  same  route  which  Mr.  Crosby 
attempted  and  found  impracticable.  He  came  to  the 
conclusion  that  it  was  not  possible,  so  he  resorted  to 
the  route  which  Mr.  Crosby  finally  took,  and  crossed 
the  Karakoram;  and  he  crossed,  with  not  half  a  dozen 
1  Former  Surveyor-General  of  India. 
281 


282  Tibet  and  Turkestan 

followers,  but  with  a  large  force.  They  came  down  into 
Rudok,  and  conquered  that  country,  making  it  a  base 
for  a  fresh  start  into  Lhasa.  This  is  interesting  to  us 
from  the  point  of  view  as  to  whether  it  is  possible  for  an 
armed  force  to  reach  Lhasa  from  the  west.  The  Mongols 
made  a  good  try,  and  then  the  inevitable  thing  happened 
— their  horses  died;  but  with  only  ninety  men  they  suc- 
ceeded in  getting  as  near  as  Shigatse,  which  they  reck- 
oned was  eight  days'  march  from  Lhasa.  Then  they 
turned  round  and  went  back  to  Rudok.  Another  in- 
teresting point  is  that  the  Tibetans,  after  true  Tibetan 
fashion,  received  the  Mongol  general  with  great  hospi- 
tality; they  even  assisted  him  to  get  together  another  force 
to  harry  another  part  of  their  own  country.  Well,  it  was 
centuries  after,  that  the  next  attempt  was  made  from 
Rudok  to  reach  Lhasa.  This  time  it  was  made  by  Sikhs. 
General  Zorowar  Sing,  acting  for  Ghulab  Sing,  who  was 
Raja  of  Kashmir,  attempted  to  reach  Lhasa  by  Leh.  He 
came  to  grief  exactly  as  Mirza  Haidar  had  come  to  grief 
before  him — his  horses  gave  out  before  he  got  to  Lhasa, 
and  he  beat  a  somewhat  hasty  retreat.  It  is  curious  to 
observe  that  the  fighting  that  was  done  was  not  done  by 
Tibetans,  but  by  Ghurkas,  who  were  sent  across  the 
border  to  fight  them.  Thus  we  learn  from  history  that  the 
attempt  to  make  any  military  movement,  at  any  rate  from 
the  west,  is  an  exceedingly  difficult  and  perilous  one. 
Once  again,  not  long  after,  a  small  and  turbulent  tribe 
of  the  Himalayas,  the  Ghurkas  (who  had  conquered 
Nepaul),  thought  it  was  time  to  have  a  look  into  Tibet 
itself.  They  made  their  attack  directly  over  the  passes, 
and  they  were  successful;  moving  very  rapidly,  they 
succeeded  in  reaching  Tashilumpo.  They  absolutely 
destroyed  the  place,  and  they  were  inclined  to  settle 
down  there.  When  the  authorities  fled  to  Lhasa  they  sent 
information  to  China,  and  asked  for  assistance;  and  then 


Appendix  B  283 

followed  what  I  really  believe  to  be  one  of  the  most  re- 
markable military  movements  that  ever  was  made  in 
the  world — seventy  thousand  Chinese  are  said  to  have 
crossed  the  passes  from  the  east  to  get  to  Lhasa.  From 
the  borders  of  their  own  country  to  Lhasa  is  a  good 
twelve  hundred  miles,  and  although  a  part  of  the  country 
is  very  different  from  that  which  Mr.  Crosby  has  de- 
scribed, i.e.,  the  upper  valley  of  the  Brahmaputra  and 
the  immediate  neighbourhood  of  Lhasa,  which  is  com- 
paratively low,  and  where  there  is  a  considerable  amount 
of  cultivation,  still  the  greater  part  of  the  journey  must 
have  been  across  most  horribly  difficult  mountain  passes, 
where  they  must  have  lost  multitudes  of  men.  Never- 
theless, they  not  only  reached  Lhasa,  but,  having  got 
there,  they  started  for  another  four  hundred  miles  en 
route  to  Nepaul.  They  beat  the  Ghurkas  handsomely, 
first  of  all  to  the  north  of  their  owii  mountains,  and  then 
followed  them  over  their  passes.  The  Ghurkas  made 
their  last  stand  some  twenty  miles  in  front  of  Khatmandu, 
and  there  the  Chinese  finally  defeated  them,  and  left 
such  a  reputation  behind  them  that  to  this  day  the 
Nepaulese  send  deputations  to  China  once  every  five 
years  to  pay  tribute.  It  only  shows  us  the  danger  of 
depreciating  a  possible  adversary.  The  best  fighting 
men  that  we  know  in  the  East  are  Ghurkas  and  Sikhs, 
and  yet  they  have  been  beaten  all  to  nothing  by  Chinese 
in  times  gone  past.  And  to  this  day  Chinese  authority 
over  the  whole  of  Tibet  is  practically  as  sound,  I  im- 
agine, as  ever  it  was.  I  would  ask  you,  in  conclusion, 
to  differentiate  carefully  between  Northern  Tibet — the 
Tibet  which  Mr.  Crosby  has  described  to-night — and 
the  true  "Bodyul, "  which  is  the  scene  of  Colonel 
Younghusband's  mission  at  the  present  moment.  It  is 
only  in  South-eastern  Tibet,  in  the  upper  valley  of  the 
Brahmaputra,  that  there  really  is  a  country  which  you 


284  Tibet  and  Turkestan 

may  say,  climatically,  is  tolerably  suitable  for  European 
life;  and  it  is  a  point  to  remember  that  Lhasa,  the  capi- 
tal of  Tibet,  is  situated — if  not  on  the  banks  of  the 
Brahmaputra  River  itself — on  the  banks  of  a  small  tribu- 
tary of  the  Brahmaputra;  and  that  it  is  not  only  the 
capital  of  Tibet,  but  the  religious  centre  of  such  a  vast 
number  of  people  that  I  believe,  taking  them  all  together, 
they  number  almost  one-third  of  the  population  of  the 
world.  Now,  I  have  been  told  that  during  the  war  in 
China,  about  one-third  of  China  did  not  know  that  any 
war  was  going  on  at  all ;  they  did  not  take  any  interest 
in  it.  But  I  will  venture  to  say  that  if  two  European 
officers  were  to  reach  Lhasa,  within  a  few  months  it 
would  be  known  over  the  whole  of  China  whether  these 
officers  were  British  or  Russians. 

The  PRESIDENT  l :  We  have  listened  to  a  most  interest- 
ing paper,  and  to  an  equally  interesting  discussion.  The 
great  plateau  of  Tibet  to  which  Mr.  Crosby  has  alluded, 
and  portions  of  which  he  has  visited,  is,  geographically 
speaking,  I  consider,  one  of  the  most  interesting  portions 
of  the  globe.  He  has  suggested  various  causes  for  the 
existence  of  that  vast  plateau,  and  he  has  described  to 
us  the  changes  that  have  been  taking  place  in  it.  I  do 
not  believe  that  any  army,  for  the  invasion  either  of 
Tibet  or  India,  has  ever  crossed  it.  The  invasions  Sir 
Thomas  Holdich  has  alluded  to  have  all  gone  along  the 
valley  of  the  Tsanpu  or  from  the  eastward ;  none  have 
ever  passed  over  the  lofty  desert.  Therefore  I  think  in 
that  respect  it  does  form  a  great  barrier. 

1  Sir  Clements  Markham,  a  distinguished  traveller  and  student  of 
Central  Asian  questions. 


APPENDIX  C 

LADAKHI  (WESTERN  TIBET)  SONGS,  EDITED  IN  CO- 
OPERATION WITH   REV.  S.  RIBBACH  AND  DR. 
E.  SHAWE,   BY  H.  FRANCKE,  LEH,   1899 


The  King' s  Garden,  Leh. 

1.  Through  perfect  good  fortune 

2.  The  happiness  containing  garden  karbzo 

3.  Not  being  built,  was  completed  by  itself. 

4.  It  is  the  house  of  the  gods  and  the  sun. 

5.  Having  in  the  zenith  of  the  clear  sky 

6.  Sun  and  moon  like  umbrellas,  so  it  arose. 

7.  It  is  a  wonderfully  pleasing  sight. 

8.  It  is  like  a  fine  room  with  pairs  of  pillars. 

9.  Within  on  the  lion's  throne 

10.  Sits  a  famous  and  strong  family. 

11.  That  is  Chosrgyal  Thsedpal  with  mother  and  son. 

12.  May  their  lotus-like  feet  stand  100  kalpas! 

13.  On  this  magnificent  high  nut  tree 

14.  Boys  and  girls  sing  melodious  songs  like  birds. 

15.  Underneath  the  youths  gather 

1 6.  And  sing  a  song  of  happiness  and  welfare. 

2  Karbzo  means,  "  risen  by  itself." 

9  The  lion's  throne  points  to  the  King's  castle,  which  was  built 
in  the  middle  of  the  garden. 

11  The  King's  name  means  "religious  king,  glory  of  the  time." 

12  Kalpa,  a  fabulous  period  of  time,  at  least  100,000  years.     Skr. 

13  The  royal  family  is  compared  with  this  high  walnut  tree,  under 
whose  shelter  happiness  dwells;  walnut  trees  do  not  grow  in  Leh. 

285 


286  Tibet  and  Turkestan 

This  song  of  praise  was  written  by  the  Leh  minister 
dNgosgrub  bstanadzin  in  the  fine  castle  within  the  karbzo 
garden. 

The  Game  of  Polo. 

1.  With  an  earthquake  we  shall  shake  the  sky! 

2.  Where  goes  our  Master  ? 

3.  To  the  Polo  ground  in  the  middle  of  the  village. 

4.  There  goes  our  Master  for  playing  Polo. 

5.  To  the  Polo  ground  of  the  village  Cigtan 

6.  There  goes  our  Khan  for  playing  Polo. 

7.  In  the  uppermost  part  (of  the  Polo  ground) 

8.  Our  Master  hits  the  ball  in  the  air. 

9.  In  the  downmost  part  (of  the  Polo  ground) 

10.  Our  Master  hits  it  straight  through  the  goal. 

11.  There  our  Master  brings  [the  ball]  to  please  his 

friends. 

12.  There  the  Master  brings  [the  ball]  to  grieve  the 

enemies. 

13.  There  on  your  high  horse 

14.  You  are  like  a  flower  in  bloom. 

15.  There  on  your  high  black  horse  with  white  hind 

feet. 

15  Horses  are  of  different  value  according  to  their  colour,  those 
described  in  15  are  about  the  most  valuable. 


Pleasure  of  Youth. 

1.  The  high  ones  (live)  in  high  places. 

2.  Into  all  the  heights  of  the  sky 

3.  Besides  the  king  of  birds  none  flies. 

4.  During  the  three  summer  months,  whatever  can 

bloom,  blooms. 


Appendix  C 


287 


5.  Besides  the  three  summer  months,  oh,  there  are  no 

flowers. 

6.  Besides  this  one  life-time  I  shall  not  belong  to  my 

mother. 

7.  In   this   one  life-time,  whatever  can  be  happy,   is 

happy. 

8.  Enjoy  this  one  life-time  as  ever  you  can  enjoy  it. 


First  girl. 
Second  girl. 

First  girl. 
Second  girl. 

First  girl. 
Second  girl. 


The  Beautiful  Thseringskyid. 

1.  Have"  you  not  seen  my  companion  ? 
Have    you   not   seen   my   companion 

Thseringskyid  ? 

Your  companion  I  do  not  know, 
Your  companion    Thseringskyid  I   do 

not  know. 

A  girl,  whose  body  was  built  as  of  gold 
Was  passing  by  here  just  now. 

2.  Have  you  not  seen  my  companion  ? 
Have    you   not    seen    my   companion 

Thseringskyid? 

Your  companion  I  do  not  know, 
Thseringskyid  I  do  not  know. 
A  girl  with  a  mass  of  matted  hair  (full 

of)  turquoises 
Was  passing  by  here  just  now. 

3.  Have  you  not  seen  my  companion  ? 
Have    you   not   seen   my   companion 

Thseringskyid  ? 

Your  companion  I  do  not  know, 
Thseringskyid  I  do  not  know. 
A  girl,  glorious  like  the  moon  on  the 


Was  passing  by  here  just  now. 


288 


Tibet  and  Turkestan 


The  whole  is  not  to  be  taken  seriously,  the  girls  are 
teasing  each  other. 

First  girl.         4.     Have  you  not  seen  my  companion  ? 

Have    you   not   seen   my   companion 

Thseringskyid? 

Second  girl.          Your  companion  I  do  not  know, 
Thseringskyid  I  do  not  know. 
A  girl  with  eyebrows  like  the  O  of  the 

(Tibetan)  alphabet 
Was  passing  by  here  just  now. 
First  girl.         5.     Have  you  not  seen  my  companion, 

Have    you    not   seen   my   companion 

Thseringskyid? 

Second  girl.          Your  companion  I  do  not  know, 
Thseringskyid  I  do  not  know. 
A  girl   with  teeth  like  curdled  milk 

and  pearls 

Was  passing  by  here  just  now. 
First  girl.         6.     Have  you  not  seen  my  companion  ? 

Have    you   not   seen   my   companion 

Thseringskyid? 

Second  girl.          Your  companion  I  do  not  know, 
Thseringskyid  I  do  not  krfow. 
A  girl  with  a  waist  like  a  monastery 

bell 

Was  passing  by  here  just  now. 
First  girl.         7.     Have  you  not  seen  my  companion  ? 

Have    you   not   seen   my   companion 

Thseringskyid? 

Second  girl.  Your  companion  I  do  not  know, 

Thseringskyid  I  do  not  know. 
A  girl,  who  is  spinning  a  silk  thread, 
Was  passing  by  here  just  now. 


Appendix  C  289 

Another 

person.     8.     You  all  belong  to  the  shoe-maker  caste, 
Why  did  you  come  to  my  house  ? 

3  On  the  fifteenth  of  the  Tibetan  month  there  ought  to  be  a  full 
moon. 

8  This  verse  is  either  part  of  a  different  song,  or  it  might  be  taken 
to  express  :  Now  we  have  had  enough  of  this  nonsense,  go  away  ! 


Secret  Love. 

The  girl  says :  i.     On  the  meadow,  on  the  upper  meadow, 

2.  On  the  upper  meadow  there  is  a  flower 

in  bloom. 

3.  Hollah,  my  boy  ! 

4.  A  flower  of  very  fine  shape  is  in  bloom 

there,  my  fellow  ! 

5.  Gather  the  flower,  my  boy. 

6.  Gather  the  well-shaped  flower  ! 

7.  If  you  gather  it  with  your  hand,  it  will 

fade. 

8.  Gather  it  with  your  soul  and  keep  it 

(fasten  it)  in  your  mind  ! 

9.  Gather  it  with  your  soul  and  keep  it 

in  your  mind  ! 
19 


APPENDIX  D 

From  the  London  Times,  May  24,  1903.     Mr.  James  Bryce 
at  Aberdeen,  May  23,  1903. 

The  Tibetans  asked  nothing  better  than  to  be  let  alone. 
They  were  not  fierce  raiders  like  the  Afghans.  They  valued 
their  splendid  isolation.  They  wished,  like  Mr.  Chamberlain, 
to  exclude  foreign  goods,  and,  like  the  Government,  to  ex- 
clude alien  immigrants  except  the  Chinese.  We  had  some 
petty  frontier  disputes  with  them.  They  had  been  tiresome 
and  discourteous,  refusing  to  send  or  receive  envoys.  Their 
conduct  had  given  material  out  of  which  those  who  wished 
to  have  a  quarrel  could  make  a  quarrel.  But  their  very 
weakness  and  ignorance  rendered  it  possible  for  a  great  Power 
to  be  indifferent. 

The  Tibetans  were  said  to  have  had  some  communication 
with  the  Russian  Government,  but  the  Government  had  de- 
clared that  they  accepted  Russia's  denial.  They  called  it  a 
peaceful  mission  and  professed  to  believe  it  could  have  a 
peaceful  reception.  The  mission  had  become  a  war,  etc. 


290 


APPENDIX  E 

Pages  6  and  7  of  "Papers  Relating  to  Tibet,  1904" 

(Note  Clause  II.  as  to  control,  by  the  Suzerain,  of  foreign 
correspondence  in  a  protected  country.  Note  Clause  VI.  as  to 
reservation  concerning  future  determination  of  method  of  com- 
munication between  India  and  Tibet.  Lord  Curzon  did  not 
wait  for  this  determination  before  making  direct  address  to  the 
Dalai  Lama. — O.  T.  C.) 

Convention  of  1890  between    Great  Britain   and  China 
relating  to  Sikkim  and  Tibet. 

Whereas  Her  Majesty  the  Queen  of  the  United  Kingdom  of 
Great  Britain  and  Ireland,  Empress  of  India,  and  His  Ma- 
jesty the  Emperor  of  China,  are  sincerely  desirous  to  main- 
tain and  perpetuate  the  relations  of  friendship  and  good 
understanding  which  now  exist  between  their  respective 
Empires;  and  whereas  recent  occurrences  have  tended 
towards  a  disturbance  of  the  said  relations,  and  it  is  desirable 
to  clearly  define  and  permanently  settle  certain  matters  con- 
nected with  the  boundary  between  Sikkim  and  Tibet,  Her 
Britannic  Majesty  and  His  Majesty  the  Emperor  of  China 
have  resolved  to  conclude  a  Convention  on  this  subject  and 
have,  for  this  purpose,  named  Plenipotentiaries,  that  is  to 
say; 

Her  Majesty  the  Queen  of  Great  Britain  and  Ireland,  His 
Excellency  the  Most  Honourable  Henry  Charles  Keith  Petty 
Fitzmaurice,  G.M.S.I.,  G.C.M.G.,  G.M.I.E.,  Marqeuss  of 
Lansdowne,  Viceroy  and  Governor-General  of  India, 

And  His  Majesty  the  Emperor  of  China,  His  Excellency 
Sheng  Tai,  Imperial  Associate  Resident  in  Tibet,  Military 
Deputy  Lieutenant-Governor. 

Who  having  met  and  communicated  to  each  other  their 
291 


292  Tibet  and  Turkestan 

full  powers,  and  finding  these  to  be  in  proper  form,  have 
agreed  upon  the  following  Convention  in  eight  Articles: — 

ARTICLE  I. — The  boundary  of  Sikkim  and  Tibet  shall  be 
the  crest  of  the  mountain  range  separating  the  waters  flowing 
into  the  Sikkim  Teesta  and  its  affluents  from  the  waters 
flowing  into  the  Tibetan  Mochu  and  northwards  into  other 
rivers  of  Tibet.  The  line  commences  at  Mount  Gipmochi  on 
the  Bhutan  frontier  and  follows  the  above-mentioned  water- 
parting  to  the  point  where  it  meets  Nipal  territory. 

II. — It  is  admitted  that  the  British  Government,  whose 
protectorate  over  the  Sikkim  State  is  hereby  recognised,  has 
direct  and  exclusive  control  over  the  internal  administration 
and  foreign  relations  of  that  State,  and  except  through  and 
with  the  permission  of  the  British  Government,  neither  the 
Ruler  of  the  State  nor  any  of  its  officers  shall  have  official 
relations  of  any  kind,  formal  or  informal,  with  any  other 
country. 

III. — The  Government  of  Great  Britain  and  Ireland  and 
the  Government  of  China  engage  reciprocally  to  respect  the 
boundary  as  defined  in  Article  I.,  and  to  prevent  acts  of 
aggression  from  their  respective  sides  of  the  frontier. 

IV. — The  question  of  providing  increased  facilities  for 
trade  across  the  Sikkim-Tibet  frontier  will  hereafter  be  dis- 
cussed with  a  view  to  a  mutually  satisfactory  arrangement 
by  the  High  Contracting  Powers. 

V. — The  question  of  pasturage  on  the  Sikkim  side  of 
the  frontier  is  reserved  for  further  examination  and  future 
adjustment. 

VI. — The  High  Contracting  Powers  reserve  for  discussion 
and  arrangement  the  method  in  which  official  communica- 
tions between  the  British  authorities  in  India  and  the  au- 
thorities in  Tibet  shall  be  conducted. 

VII. — Two  Joint-Commissioners  shall,  within  six  months 
from  the  ratification  of  this  Convention,  be  appointed,  one 
by  the  British  Government  in  India,  the  other  by  the  Chinese 
Resident  in  Tibet.  The  said  Commissioners  shall  meet  and 
discuss  the  questions  which  by  the  last  three  preceding 
Articles  have  been  reserved. 

VIII. — The  present  Convention  shall  be  ratified,  and  the 
ratifications  shall  be  exchanged  in  London  as  soon  as  pos- 
sible after  the  date  of  the  signature  thereof. 


Appendix  E  293 

In  witness  whereof  the  respective  negotiators  have  signed 
the  same  and  affixed  thereunto  the  seals  of  their  arms. 

Done  in  quadruplicate  at  Calcutta  this  seventeenth  day  of 
March  in  the  year  of  our  Lord  one  thousand  eight  hundred 
and  ninety,  corresponding  with  the  Chinese  date  the  twenty- 
seventh  day  of  the  second  moon  of  the  sixteenth  year  of 
Kuang  Hsu. 

[Chinese 

[SEAL]         (Sd)     LANSDOWNE.       seal  and 

signature.] 


APPENDIX  F 

Pages  8  and  9  of  "Papers  Relating  to  Tibet,  1904." 

(Note  the  declaration  of  the  British  Agent  that  nothing  short 
of  the  complete  destruction,  as  to  British  interests,  of  the  isola- 
tion desired  by  Tibet,  would  be  considered  as  satisfactory. — 
O.  T.  C.) 

Letter  from  the  Government  of  India,  in  the  Foreign  De- 
partment, to  the  Right  Honourable  the  Earl  of  Kim- 
berley,  K.G.,  Her  Majesty's  Secretary  of  State  for 
India,  dated  Simla,  the  4th  July,  1893.  (Received 
the  25th  July,  1893.) 

(Extract) 

With  our  despatch,  dated  the  25th  March,  1890,  we  had 
the  honour  to  forward  copies  of  the  Sikkim-Tibet  Convention 
which  was  signed  on  the  i;th  of  that  month,  and  His  Excel- 
lency the  Viceroy's  telegram  of  the  3ist  December,  1890,  in- 
formed Lord  Cross  that  Mr.  A.  W.  Paul,  C.I.E.,  C.S.,  had 
been  selected  for  the  appointment  of  British  Commissioner 
under  Article  VII.  of  the  Convention.  In  our  despatch, 
dated  the  2nd  November,  1892,  we  reported  that,  although 
we  had  made  numerous  and  important  concessions  to  China 
in  the  course  of  the  ensuing  negotiations,  matters  had  come 
to  a  dead-lock  owing  to  the  persistence  of  the  Chinese  in  the 
determination  to  entirely  exclude  Indian  tea  from  Tibet.  A 
compromise  has,  however,  at  length  been  effected,  and  as  the 
reserved  articles  of  the  Convention  appear  now  to  be  within 
measurable  distance  of  settlement,  it  will  be  convenient  to 
place  before  Your  Lordship  a  sketch  of  what  has  passed  since 
the  negotiations  were  opened  nearly  two  and  a  half  years  ago. 
As  a  first  step  representatives  on  behalf  of  China  were  ap- 
pointed under  the  terms  of  the  Convention  by  the  orders  of 

294 


Appendix  F  295 

His  Excellency  the  Amban  Sheng  Tai,  Chief  Resident  in 
Tibet,  who  had  signed  the  Convention  in  Calcutta;  but  the 
leading  parts  in  the  negotiations  were  taken  on  the  Chinese 
side  by  Sheng  Tai  himself  and  by  Mr.  J.  H.  Hart,  Secretary  to 
the  Amban.  On  the  i6th  January,  1891,  Mr.  Hart  com- 
municated to  Mr.  Paul  an  outline  settlement  of  the  reserved 
articles  which  he  suggested  should  be  filled  in  in  accordance 
with  the  views  of  the  Government  of  India.  This  outline 
was  worded  as  follows: — 

First:  Pasturage. — Such  privileges  as  Tibet  enjoys  on  the 
Sikkim  side  of  the  frontier  will  be  enjoyed  by  Sikkim  on  the 
Tibet  side. 

Second:  Communication. — Communication  shall  be  be- 
tween the  Chinese  Resident  in  Tibet  and  India,  and  shall  be 
transmitted  through  the  medium  of  the  officer  in  charge  of 
trade  in  the  Chumbi  valley. 

Third:  Trade. — Place  of  trade  or  trade-mart  yet  to  be 
designated  shall  be  opened  under  regulations  and  with  tariff 
yet  to  be  arranged. 

Under  instruction  from  the  Government  of  India,  Mr. 
Paul,  on  the  23rd  February,  1891,  informed  Mr.  Hart  that 
the  Government  of  India  accepted  this  outline,  and  that, 
although  nothing  short  of  free  trade  and  free  travel  for  all 
British  subjects  throughout  Tibet  would  be  considered  a 
satisfactory  solution  of  these  questions,  the  Governor-General 
in  Council,  who  was  desirous  not  to  unduly  press  or  em- 
barrass the  Chinese  Government,  was  prepared  to  agree  to 
an  arrangement  on  the  lines  of  the  following  articles,  namely: 


APPENDIX  G 

Pages  22  and  23  of  "Papers  Relating  to  Tibet,  1904." 

(Note  that  while  provision  is  made  for  correspondence  with 
the  Chinese  Imperial  Resident,  nothing  is  said  as  to  corre- 
spondence directly  addressed  to  the  Dalai  Lama.  Such  corre- 
spondence, it  is  plainly  assumed,  will  not  exist.  The  Tibetan 
authorities  are  not  parties  either  to  these  Regulations  or  to  the 
original  Convention  of  1890. — O.  T.  C.) 

Regulations  regarding  Trade,  Communication,  and  Pas- 
turage to  be  appended  to  the  Sikkim-  Tibet  Convention 
of  1890. 

I. — A  trade-mart  shall  be  established  at  Yatung  on  the 

Tibetan  side  of  the  frontier,  and  shall  be  open  to  all  British 

subjects  for  purposes  of  trade  from  the  first  day 

Trade.  of  May,  1894.     The  Government  of  India  shall 

be  free  to  send  officers  to  reside  at  Yatung  to 

watch  the  conditions  of  British  trade  at  that  mart. 

II. — British  subjects  trading  at  Yatung  shall  be  at  liberty 
to  travel  freely  to  and  fro  between  the  frontier  and  Yatung, 
to  reside  at  Yatung,  and  to  rent  houses  and  godowns  for 
their  own  accommodation,  and  the  storage  of  their  goods. 
The  Chinese  Government  undertake  that  suitable  buildings 
for  the  above  purposes  shall  be  provided  for  British  subjects, 
and  also  that  a  special  and  fitting  residence  shall  be  provided 
for  the  officer  or  officers  appointed  by  the  Government  of 
India  under  Regulation  I.  to  reside  at  Yatung.  British  sub- 
jects shall  be  at  liberty  to  sell  their  goods  to  whomsoever  they 
please,  to  purchase  native  commodities  in  kind  or  in  money, 
to  hire  transport  of  any  kind,  and  in  general  to  conduct  their 
business  transactions  in  conformity  with  local  usage,  and 
without  any  vexatious  restrictions.  Such  British  subjects 

296 


Appendix  G  297 

shall  receive  efficient  protection  for  their  persons  and  pro- 
perty. At  Lang-jo  and  Ta-chun,  between  the  frontier  and 
Yatung,  where  rest-houses  have  been  built  by  the  Tibetan 
authorities,  British  subjects  can  break  their  journey  in  con- 
sideration of  a  daily  rent. 

III. — Import  and  export  trade  in  the  following  Articles — 
arms,  ammunition,  military  stores,  salt,  liquors,  and  in- 
toxicating or  narcotic  drugs, 

may  at  the  option  of  either  Government  be  entirely  pro- 
hibited, or  permitted  only  on  such  conditions  as  either  Gov- 
ernment on  their  own  side  may  think  fit  to  impose. 

IV. — Goods,  other  than  goods  of  the  descriptions  enu- 
merated in  Regulation  III.,  entering  Tibet  from  British 
India,  across  the  Sikkim-Tibet  frontier,  or  vice  versd,  what- 
ever their  origin,  shall  be  exempt  from  duty  for  a  period  of 
five  years  commencing  from  the  date  of  the  opening  of 
Yatung  to  trade,  but  after  the  expiration  of  this  term,  if 
found  desirable,  a  tariff  may  be  mutually  agreed  upon  and 
enforced. 

Indian  tea  may  be  imported  into  Tibet  at  a  rate  of  duty 
not  exceeding  that  at  which  Chinese  tea  is  imported  into 
England,  but  trade  in  Indian  tea  shall  not  be  engaged  in 
during  the  five  years  for  which  other  commodities  are 
exempt. 

V. — All  goods  on  arrival  at  Yatung,  whether  from  British 
India  or  from  Tibet,  must  be  reported  at  the  Customs  Station 
there  for  examination,  and  the  report  must  give  full  par- 
ticulars of  the  description,  quantity,  and  value  of  the  goods. 

VI. — In  the  event  of  trade  disputes  arising  between  British 
and  Chinese  or  Tibetan  subjects  in  Tibet,  they  shall  be  en- 
quired into  and  settled  in  personal  conference  by  the  Political 
Officer  for  Sikkim  and  the  Chinese  frontier  officer.  The 
object  of  personal  conference  being  to  ascertain  facts  and  do 
justice,  where  there  is  a  divergence  of  views  the  law  of  the 
country  to  which  the  defendant  belongs  shall  guide. 

VII. — Despatches  from  the  Government  of  India  to  the 
Chinese    Imperial    Resident   in    Tibet    shall    be 
handed  over  by  the  Political  Officer  for  Sikkim    Communica- 
te the  Chinese  frontier  officer,  who  will  forward 
them  by  special  courier. 

Despatches  from  the  Chinese  Imperial  Resident  in  Tibet 


;£sETiB^ 

OF  THE 

UNIVERSITY 


298  Tibet  and  Turkestan 

to  the  Government  of  India  will  be  handed  over  by  the  Chi- 
nese frontier  officer  to  the  Political  Officer  for  Sikkim,  who 
will  forward  them  as  quickly  as  possible. 

VIII. — Despatches  between  the  Chinese  and  Indian  of- 
ficials must  be  treated  with  due  respect,  and  couriers  will 
be  assisted  in  passing  to  and  fro  by  the  officers  of  each  Gov- 
ernment. 

IX. — After  the  expiration  of  one  year  from  the  date  of  the 

opening  of  Yatung,  such  Tibetans  as  continue  to  graze  their 

cattle  in  Sikkim  will  be  subject  to  such  Regula- 

Pasturage.       tions  as  the  British  Government  may  from  time 

to  time  enact  for  the  general  conduct  of  grazing 

in  Sikkim.     Due  notice  will  be  given  of  such  Regulations. 


APPENDIX  H 

Pages  25,  42-3,  and  52-3  of  "Papers  Relating  to  Tibet,  1904." 

(Note  the  admissions  that  (a)  no  practical  inconvenience  re- 
sulted from  delay  in  demarcation,  (b)  that  the  territory  in 
question  is  valueless  to  Sikkim,  (c)  that  there  are  good  grounds 
for  supposing  the  contention  of  the  Tibetans  to  be  just.  Then 
note  the  expression  "surrender  of  territory." — O.  T.  C.) 


Extracts  from  a  Letter  from  the  Government  of  India,  in 
the  Foreign  Department,  to  the  Right  Honourable  H. 
H.  Fowler,  Her  Majesty's  Secretary  of  State  for 
India,  dated  Simla,  the  2$th  June,  1895.  (Received 
the  ijth  July,  1895-) 

5.  The    Lieutenant-Govern  or    of    Bengal    recommended 
that,  if  the  Chinese  and  Tibetan  delegates  were  unable  to  at 
once  join  Mr.  White,  he  should  be  authorised  to  proceed 
alone  to  lay  down  the  boundary  where  no  dispute  is  known 
to  exist.     Demarcation  was  not,  however,  provided  for  in 
the  Treaty  of  1890;   no  serious  practical  inconvenience  had 
apparently  arisen  through  the  frontier  being  undemarcated, 
and  under  all  the  circumstances  we  considered  it  preferable 
that  Mr.  White  should  not  proceed  alone  beyond  the  Doka 
La.     We  accordingly  directed  that,  if  the  Chinese  delegates 
failed  to  meet  him  there  on  or  about  the  ist  June,  he  should 
explain  matters  by  letter  to  the  Chinese  Resident  and  return 
to  Gantok. 

6.  Mr.    White    subsequently    reported    that    the    pillar 
erected  at  the  Jeylap  La  had  been  demolished  by  Tibetans, 
and  that  the  pillar  on  the  Donchuk  La  had  been  wilfully 
damaged.     The    Lieutenant-Governor   wished    us   to    bring 

299 


300  Tibet  and  Turkestan 

pressure  to  bear  on  the  Chinese  Resident  in  order  to  secure 
reparation.  There  is,  however,  at  present  no  evidence  that 
the  mischief  is  to  be  directly  attributed  to  Tibetan  officials, 
and  it  is  in  our  opinion  necessary  to  make  allowances  for  the 
difficulties  of  the  Chinese  Resident's  position  in  respect  to 
the  Tibetans. 

(B) 

Letter  from  the  Government  of  India,  in  the.  Foreign  De- 
partment, to  the  Right  Honourable  Lord  George  F. 
Hamilton,  Her  Majesty's  Secretary  of  State  for  India, 
dated  Simla,  the  jrd  September,  1895.  (Received  the 
2jrd  September,  1895.) 

Our  Despatch,  dated  the  25th  June,  1895,  informed  Her 
Majesty's  Government  of  the  position  of  affairs  on  the 
Sikkim-Tibet  border.  We  have  since  been  in  further  corre- 
spondence with  Sir  Nicholas  O' Conor,  and  on  the  roth  August 
instructions  were  issued  that  our  demarcation  party  should 
break  up  and  that  Mr.  White  should  return  to  Gantok. 

2.  The  Chinese  Resident  in  Tibet  suggested  postpone- 
ment of  demarcation  until  after  five  years  from  the  date  on 
which  the  Trade  Regulations  attached  to  the  Convention  of 
1890  came  into  force.  His  Excellency  the  Viceroy  has  de- 
clared his  inability  to  seriously  discuss  such  a  suggestion  and 
has  communicated  to  the  Chinese  Resident  a  hope  that 
nothing  will  prevent  the  work  being  carried  out  amicably 
next  year. 

(C) 

From  the  Viceroy  to  the  Secretary  of  State  for  India,  dated 
i$th  February,  1896. 

(Telegraphic) 

Please  see  our  letter  of  3rd  September,  1895,  and  your 
despatch  of  6th  December,  1895.  There  are  grounds  for  be- 
lieving that  the  Tibetans  possess  reasonable  claims  in  the 
extreme  north  of  Sikkim  to  a  tract  of  land  which  is  excluded 
from  Tibet  by  the  boundary  line  laid  down  in  the  Convention. 
The  tract  in  question  is  of  no  value  to  Sikkim.  Would  you 


Appendix  H  301 

approve  of  my  intimating  our  willingness  to  meet  the  Tibet- 
ans' claims  and  of  my  addressing  the  Chinese  Resident  with 
a  proposal  for  a  joint  enquiry  into  them?  If  there  are  exist- 
ing grievances  that  are  capable  of  being  removed  I  hope  an 
impetus  will  be  given  to  trade. 

From  the  Secretary  of  State  for  India  to  the  Viceroy,  dated 
2nd  March,  1896. 

(Telegraphic) 

Your  telegram  of  i$th  February.  Your  proposal  is  ap- 
proved by  Her  Majesty's  Government,  but  the  completion  of 
the  demarcation  (vide  your  letter  of  3rd  September)  must  be 
made  a  condition  of  the  surrender  of  any  territory  to  Tibet. 


APPENDIX  I 

Page  116  ''Papers  Relating  to  Tibet,  1904." 

Despatch  from  Sir  C.  Scott  to  the  Marquess  of  Lansdowne, 

dated  St.  Petersburgh,  July  4,  1901.     (Received 

July  8.) 

(Extract} 

With  reference  to  my  despatch  of  the  ist  instant,  I  have 
the  honour  to  transmit  herewith,  in  translation,  further  ex- 
tracts from  the  Russian  press  referring  to  the  arrival  in 
Russia  of  a  so-called  Tibetan  Mission.  Count  Lamsdorff,  in 
the  course  of  conversation  with  me  yesterday,  characterised 
as  ridiculous  and  utterly  unfounded  the  conclusion  drawn  in 
certain  organs  of  the  Russian  press  that  these  Tibetan 
visitors  were  charged  with  any  diplomatic  or  political  mis- 
sion. Count  Lamsdorff  said,  that  the  Lama  Akban  was  a 
Mongolian  Buriat  of  Russian  origin,  who  came  occasionally 
to  Russia  with  the  object,  he  believed,  of  making  money  col- 
lections for  his  Order  from  the  numerous  Buddhists  in  the 
Empire.  He  said  that  on  the  occasion  of  Akban 's  last  visit 
in  autumn  to  Yalta,  the  Emperor  had  received  him,  and  he 
himself  had  had  an  opportunity  of  learning  some  interesting 
details  from  him  of  life  in  Tibet.  The  Russian  Geographical 
Society  took  an  interest  in  his  visit,  which  had  no  official 
character  whatever,  although  he  was  accompanied  on  this 
visit  by  other  Tibetans.  Count  Lamsdorff  said  that  Dr. 
Badmeyeff,  who  takes  a  special  interest  in  Tibet  and  Lama 
Akban's  visit,  was  an  eccentric  character,  but  it  was  difficult 
to  understand  how  the  Russian  press,  in  view  of  the  inter- 
national position  of  Tibet  as  a  dependency  of  China,  could 
have  attributed  an  official  or  diplomatic  character  to  the 
Lama's  visit  to  Russia. 

302 


APPENDIX  J 

Pages  118  and  119  of  "Papers  Relating  to  Tibet,  1904." 

Letter  from  the  Government  of  India,  in  the  Foreign  De- 
partment, to  the  Right  Honourable  Lord  George  F. 
Hamilton,  His  Majesty's  Secretary  of  State  for  India, 
dated  Simla,  the  2$th  July,  1901.  (Received  the  I2th 
August,  1901.) 

(Eoctracf) 

In  despatch  dated  the  8th  December,  1899,  Your  Lordship 
approved  of  the  measures  which  we  had  adopted  with  the 
object  of  establishing  direct  communication  with  the  Tibet- 
ans. We  have  now  the  honour  to  forward  correspondence 
which  shows  the  further  action  taken  in  the  matter.  When 
our  despatch  dated  the  26th  October,  1899,  was  written,  we 
were  awaiting  the  return  of  Ugyen  Kazi,  the  Bhutan  Vakil, 
from  Tibet  and  the  outcome  of  a  letter  which  he  had  under- 
taken to  deliver  to  the  Dalai  Lama.  That  letter  having  met 
with  an  unfavourable  response,  we  decided  to  defer  making 
any  further  attempt  to  obtain  access  to  the  Dalai  Lama  by 
the  Sikkim  route,  and  to  seek  some  new  channel  of  com- 
munication. Enquiries  were  accordingly  instituted  as  to  the 
possibility  of  despatching  a  suitable  emissary  to  the  Tibetan 
capital  either  through  Yunnan,  or  through  Nepal,  or  by  way 
of  Ladakh.  Our  resident  in  Nepal,  who  was  verbally  con- 
sulted, advised  against  any  attempt  being  made  to  reach 
Lhasa  via  Nepal,  except  with  the  knowledge  and  consent  of 
the  Nepalese  Darbar,  to  whom  we  were  not  prepared  to 
refer.  The  agent  whom  we  suggested  to  the  Government  of 
Burma  as  a  possible  emissary  for  the  mission  through  Yunnan 
was  reported  to  be  unsuitable.  The  proposal  to  communi- 
cate through  Ladakh,  however,  seemed  to  offer  some  prospect 

303 


304  Tibet  and  Turkestan 

of  success.  The  plan  suggested  by  our  Resident  in  Kashmir 
was  that  the  Assistant  Resident  who  annually  visits  Leh 
should  enter  into  negotiations  with  the  Joint  Governors  of 
Western  Tibet,  known  as  the  Urkhus  of  Gartok,  by  whose 
agency  it  was  hoped  that  communication  with  the  chief  au- 
thorities at  Lhasa  might  be  secured.  Upon  this  suggestion 
we  authorised  Captain  Kennion  to  visit  Gartok  in  the  autumn 
of  1900.  He  was  entrusted  with  a  letter  addressed  by  the 
Viceroy  to  the  Dalai  Lama,  and  was  instructed  to  hand  it 
over  to  the  Urkhus,  should  there  appear  to  be  a  reasonable 
prospect  that  it  would  be  forwarded  to  its  destination.  The 
letter  was  delivered  to  the  Chaktar  Urkhu,  who  undertook  to 
transmit  it  to  the  Dalai  Lama.  After  a  delay  of  six  months, 
the  letter  was  returned  to  Captain  Kennion  with  the  intima- 
tion that  the  Urkhus  had  not  dared,  in  the  face  of  the  regula- 
tions against  the  intrusion  of  foreigners  into  Tibet,  to  send  it 
to  Lhasa.  This  enterprise  having  failed,  we  determined  to 
make  one  more  effort  to  procure  the  delivery  of  a  letter  to  the 
Dalai  Lama  through  Ugyen  Kazi.  A  favourable  oppor- 
tunity was  presented  by  the  fact  that  he  had  recently  pur- 
chased two  elephants  on  commission  for  the  Dalai  Lama, 
and  could,  therefore,  proceed  to  Lhasa  without  exciting  sus- 
picion. We  have  accordingly  entrusted  Ugyen  Kazi  with  a 
second  letter  addressed  by  the  Viceroy  to  the  Dalai  Lama,  in 
which  stress  is  laid  upon  the  forbearance  shown  by  the 
British  Government  in  their  relations  with  Tibet,  and  a 
warning  is  conveyed  that,  if  the  overtures  which  we  have 
made  with  a  view  to  establishing  friendly  intercourse  are 
still  treated  with  indifference,  we  reserve  the  right  to  take 
such  steps  as  may  seem  necessary  and  proper  to  enforce  the 
terms  of  the  Treaty  of  1890,  and  to  ensure  that  the  trade 
regulations  are  observed.  Should  this  letter  meet  with  the 
fate  of  its  predecessor,  we  contemplate,  subject  to  the  ap- 
proval of  His  Majesty's  Government,  the  adoption  of  more 
practical  measures  with  a  view  to  securing  the  commercial 
and  political  facilities,  which  our  friendly  representations 
will  have  failed  to  procure.  As  to  the  exact  form  which  our 
altered  policy  should  assume,  we  shall,  if  necessary,  address 
Your  Lordship  at  a  later  date.  But  we  may  add,  that  before 
long,  steps  may  require  to  be  taken  for  the  adequate  safe- 
guarding of  British  interests  upon  a  part  of  the  frontier  where 


Appendix  J  3°5 

they  have  never  hitherto  been  impugned.  We  trust  that  our 
proceedings,  as  indicated  in  the  correspondence  forwarded 
with  this  despatch,  will  meet  with  the  approval  of  His 
Majesty's  Government. 

From  the  Viceroy  to  the  Secretary  of  State  for  India,  dated 
2$th  October,  IQOI. 

(Telegraphic) 

Your  despatch  of  i6th  August.  Ugyen  Kazi,  who  has  re- 
turned from  Lhasa,  reports  that  my  letter  was  delivered  by 
him  to  the  Dalai  Lama,  but  that  the  latter  declined  to  reply 
to  it,  stating,  as  his  reason,  that  the  matter  was  not  one  for 
him  to  settle,  but  must  be  discussed  fully  in  Council  with  the 
Amban,  the  Ministers  and  the  Lamas;  and  further  that  he 
was  afraid  that  Ugyen  Kazi  might  be  killed  were  it  to  become 
known  that  an  answer  had  been  given  to  him. 

From  the  Viceroy  to  the  Secretary  of  State  for  India,  dated 
3rd  November,  1901. 

(Telegraphic) 

My  telegram  of  2pth  October.  My  letter  has  been  brought 
back  by  Ugyen  Kazi  with  the  seal  intact.  Ugyen  Kazi  re- 
ports that  the  Dalai  Lama  refused  to  accept  it,  stating,  as  his 
reason  for  so  refusing,  that  he  was  bound  by  agreement  not 
to  enter  into  any  correspondence  with  Foreign  Governments 
without  consulting  the  Chinese  Ambans  and  the  Council. 


APPENDIX  K 

Page  145  of  "Papers  Relating  to  Tibet,  1904." 

Despatch  from  Sir  C.  Scott  to  the  Marquess  of  Lansdowne, 

dated  St.  Petersburgh,  October  2,  1902.     (Received 

October  6.) 

(Extract) 

The  Chinese  Minister,  who  called  on  me  to-day,  told  me, 
in  the  course  of  conversation,  that  several  of  my  colleagues 
had  been  making  enquiries  of  him  respecting  a  pretended 
text  of  Agreement  between  Russia  and  China  in  regard  to 
Tibet,  which  had  appeared  in  several  continental  as  well  as 
Russian  newspapers.  He  said  that  he  had  first  seen  this 
apocryphal  text  in  the  Chinese  newspapers,  and  that  its  very 
form  and  wording  showed  that  it  could  not  be  of  Chinese 
origin.  He  asked  me  if  it  could  possibly  have  been  credited 
as  genuine  by  Sir  Ernest  Satow.  I  said  that  I  did  not  think 
that  Sir  E.  Satow  attached  much  credit  to  it,  and  probably 
regarded  it  as  a  "ballon  d'essai,"  started  in  non-official 
Russian  quarters,  but  that  the  text  had  undoubtedly  been 
circulated  and  had  reached  the  Indian  Government,  and  that 
the  Chinese  Government  would  no  doubt  easily  be  able  to 
satisfy  themselves  that  the  Indian  Government  would  cer- 
tainly not  be  indifferent  to  any  alteration  in  the  present 
status  and  relations  of  a  country  so  near  to  their  frontiers  as 
Tibet. 


306 


APPENDIX  L 

Pages  151-156  and  (£)  193  of  "Papers  Relating  to  Tibet,  1904." 

(The  long  and  energetic  letter  of  Lord  Curzon,  from  which 
extracts  are  here  given,  may  fairly  be  considered  as  the  official 
basis  for  the  attack  upon  Tibet.  It  is  verbose,  but  it  cries 
"Forward!"  so  insistently  that  the  weary  Indian  Office  in 
London  -finally  echoes  "Forward  !"  —  a  little  weakly,  yet  loudly 
enough  to  satisfy  the  strenuous  Viceroy.  His  enthusiasm 
makes  him  swallow  secret  treaties  and  Russian  arms  in  Lhasa. 
—  O.  T.  C.) 

(A) 

Extracts  from  a  Letter  from  the  Government  of  India,  in 
the  Foreign  Department,  to  the  Right  Honourable 
Lord  George  F.  Hamilton,  His  Majesty's  Secretary 
of  State  for  India,  dated  Camp  Delhi,  the  8th  Janu- 
ary, 1903.  (Received  the  24th  January, 


In  a  despatch,  dated  nth  April,  1902,  Your  Lordship 
agreed  to  our  proposal  for  the  employment  of  Mr.  White,  and 
you  forwarded  to  us  copy  of  a  letter  from  the  Foreign  Office 
dated  March  26th,  in  which  the  Marquess  of  Lansdowne  ex- 
pressed his  concurrence  with  us  in  believing  that  further 
negotiations  on  the  subject  of  our  relations  with  Tibet  with 
the  Chinese  Government  would  not  be  likely  to  lead  to  any 
satisfactory  result,  and  that  it  would  be  necessary  to  resort 
to  local  action  in  order  to  vindicate  British  rights  under  the 
Convention  of  1890.  Mr.  White  conducted  his  Mission  dur- 
ing the  past  summer  with  expedition  and  success.  In  a 
despatch,  dated  loth  July,  1902,  we  explained  to  Your 
Lordship  the  revised  instructions  which  we  issued  to  him 
before  starting  and  which  he  duly  observed;  and  we  now 

307 


308  Tibet  and  Turkestan 

have  the  honour  to  forward  the  correspondence  contained  in 
the  attached  list,  showing  the  results  of  his  tour.  The 
Tibetans  who  were  in  occupation  of  the  Giaogong  plateau 
were  directed  by  Mr.  White  to  withdraw  beyond  the  frontier, 
and  our  right  to  insist  upon  the  observance  of  the  boundary 
laid  down  by  the  Convention  of  1890  was  clearly  asserted. 
We  have  since  learned  from  Mr.  White  that  the  grazing 
rights  on  the  Sikkim  side  of  the  border  which  had  been 
usurped  by  the  Tibetans  are,  in  fact,  balanced  by  similar 
rights  which  are  conceded  to  the  Sikkimese  across  the 
Tibetan  border,  and  that  the  status  quo  is  probably  the 
most  convenient  arrangement  in  the  interest  of  both  parties 


and  it  is  probable  that  the  chief  advantage  derived  from  Mr. 
White's  mission  up  to  the  present  time  consists  in  the  fear 
inspired  among  the  Tibetans  that  it  is  the  prelude  to  some 
further  movement — an  advantage  which  would  be  wholly 
sacrificed  when  the  discovery  was  made  that  no  such  conse- 
quence was  likely  to  ensue.  If,  therefore,  we  now  enter  upon 
negotiations  with  no  other  vantage  ground  than  the  success- 
ful reassertion  of  our  authority  on  a  very  inconspicuous  sec- 
tion of  the  border,  it  does  not  appear  that  there  is  much  reason 
for  anticipating  a  more  favourable  solution  of  the  Tibetan 
problem  than  has  attended  our  previous  efforts,  unless  in- 
deed, we  are  prepared  to  assume  a  minatory  tone  and  to 
threaten  Tibet  with  further  advance  if  the  political  and 
commercial  relations  between  us  are  allowed  any  longer  to 
be  reduced  to  a  nullity  by  her  policy  of  obstinate  inaction. 
The  second  combination  of  circumstances  that  has  materially 
affected  the  situation  is  the  rumoured  conclusion  of  a  Secret 
Agreement  by  which  the  Russian  Government  has  acquired 
certain  powers  of  interference  in  Tibet.  We  have  ourselves 
reported  to  Your  Lordship  circumstantial  evidence  derived 
from  a  variety  of  quarters  all  pointing  in  the  same  direction 
and  tending  to  show  the  existence  of  an  arrangement  of  some 
sort  between  Russia  and  Tibet.  .  .  .  It  is  unnecessary 
for  us  to  remind  Your  Lordship  that  the  Russian  border  no- 
where even  touches  that  of  Tibet,  and  that  the  nearest  point 
of  Russian  territory  is  considerably  more  than  a  thousand 
miles  short  of  the  Tibetan  capital,  which  is  situated  in  the 


Appendix  L  3°9 

extreme  south,  and  in  close  proximity  to  the  northern 
frontier  of  the  Indian  Empire.  Neither  need  we  point  to  the 
historical  fact  that  no  other  States  or  Powers  have,  during 
the  time  that  the  British  dominion  has  been  established  in 
India,  had  any  connection  with  Tibet,  but,  firstly,  China  who 
possesses  a  nominal  suzerainty  over  the  country,  secondly, 
Nepal,  a  State  in  close  political  connection  with  India,  and, 
thirdly,  the  British  Government  itself.  The  policy  of  ex- 
clusiveness  to  which  the  Tibetan  Government  has  during  the 
last  century  become  increasingly  addicted  has  only  been 
tolerated  by  us,  because  anomalous  and  unfriendly  as  it  has 
been,  it  carried  with  it  no  element  of  political  or  military 
danger.  At  no  time  during  that  century  do  we  imagine  that 
Great  Britain  would  have  permitted  the  creation  of  a  rival 
or  hostile  influence  in  a  position  so  close  to  the  Indian  border 
and  so  pregnant  with  possibilities  of  mischief.  We  are  of 
opinion  that  the  only  way  in  which  to  counteract  the  danger 
by  which  we  regard  British  interests  as  directly  threatened  in 
Tibet,  is  to  assume  the  initiative  ourselves,  and  we  regard  the 
Chinese  proposals  for  a  conference  as  affording  an  excellent 
opportunity  for  pressing  forward  and  carrying  out  this 
policy.  We  are  in  favour,  subject  to  a  qualification  that  we 
shall  presently  mention,  of  accepting  the  Chinese  proposals, 
but  of  attaching  to  them  the  condition  that  the  conference 
shall  take  place  not  upon  our  frontier,  but  at  Lhasa,  and  that 
it  shall  be  attended  by  a  representative  of  the  Tibetan  Gov- 
ernment, who  shall  participate  in  the  proceedings.  In  this  way 
alone  does  it  appear  to  us  that  we  shall  escape  the  ignominious 
position  of  having  an  Agreement  which  has  been  formally 
concluded  with  the  Chinese  subsequently  repudiated  by  the 
Tibetans;  and  in  no  other  way  do  we  regard  it  as  in  the 
least  likely  that  the  wall  of  Tibetan  impassivity  and  ob- 
struction will  be  broken  down.  We  might  find  many  prece- 
dents in  the  history  of  India  for  missions  with  a  not 
altogether  dissimilar  object.  ...  In  view  of  the  contin- 
gency of  opposition,  we  think  that  the  mission,  if  decided 
upon,  should  be  accompanied  by  an  armed  escort,  sufficient 
to  overawe  any  opposition  that  might  be  encountered  on  the 
way,  and  to  ensure  its  safety  while  in  Lhasa.  The  military 
strength  of  the  Tibetans  is  beneath  contempt,  and  serious 
resistance  is  not  to  be  contemplated.  It  would,  however,  be 


3io  Tibet  and  Turkestan 

unwise  to  run  any  risk,  for  reports  have  reached  us  that  an 
attempt  is  now  made  to  drill  the  Tibetan  troops  at  Lhasa, 
and  that  breech-loaders  and  other  munitions  of  war  have 
actually  already  been  secretly  imported  into  the  capital.  At 
the  same  time  the  most  emphatic  assurances  might  be  given 
to  the  Chinese  and  Tibetan  Governments  that  the  mission 
was  of  an  exclusively  commercial  character,  that  we  re- 
pudiated all  designs  of  a  political  nature  upon  Tibet,  that  we 
had  no  desire  either  to  declare  a  Protectorate  or  permanently 
to  occupy  any  portion  of  the  country,  but  that  our  intentions 
were  confined  to  removing  the  embargo  that  at  present  rests 
upon  all  trade  between  Tibet  and  India,  and  to  establishing 
those  amicable  relations  and  means  of  communication  which 
ought  to  subsist  between  adjacent  and  friendly  Powers. 

(B) 

From  the  Secretary  of  State  for  India  to  the  Viceroy \  dated 
May  28,  1903. 

(Telegraphic) 

Your  proposals  of  the  yth  and  2ist  May  regarding  Tibet 
have  been  considered  with  great  care  by  His  Majesty's  Gov- 
ernment. They  agree  with  you  in  desiring  the  promotion  of 
trade  facilities  in  Tibet,  and  a  guarantee  that  the  Tibetans 
shall  be  prevented  from  evading  or  rejecting  engagements 
made  on  their  behalf  in  any  new  treaty  or  convention.  A 
procedure,  therefore,  whereby  both  the  Chinese  and  Tibetan 
Governments  will  be  bound  by  the  acts  of  their  representa- 
tives has  their  approval.  They  wish,  however,  that  the 
negotiations  should  be  restricted  to  questions  concerning 
trade  relations,  the  frontier,  and  grazing  rights;  and  they 
desire  that  no  proposal  should  be  made  for  the  establishment 
of  a  Political  Agent  either  at  Gyangtse  or  at  Lhasa.  Such  a 
political  outpost  might  entail  difficulties  and  responsibilities 
incommensurate,  in  the  judgment  of  His  Majesty's  Govern- 
ment, with  any  benefits  which,  in  the  circumstances  now 
known  to  exist,  could  be  gained  by  it.  The  Foreign  Office 
have  recently  received  assurances  that  Russia  has  no  in- 
tention of  developing  political  interests  in  Tibet.  Moreover, 


Appendix  L  311 

His  Majesty's  Government  are  unwilling  to  be  committed, 
by  threats  accompanying  the  proposals  which  may  be  made 
to  any  definite  course  of  compulsion  to  be  undertaken  in  the 
future.  They  authorise  you,  then,  subject  to  the  conditions 
above  stated,  to  communicate  with  the  Chinese  Resident 
and  Tibetan  representative,  fixing  Khamba  Jong  as  the 
place  of  meeting.  They  also  request  that  the  purport  and 
progress  of  the  negotiations,  as  they  proceed,  may  be  com- 
municated to  them  from 


APPENDIX  M 

Page  187  of  "Papers  Relating  to  Tibet,  1904." 

Despatch  from  the  Marquess  of  Lansdowne  to  Sir  C.  Scott  y 
dated  April  8,  ipoj. 

(Extract} 

The  Russian  Ambassador  informed  me  to-day  that  he  had 
received  from  Count  Lamsdorff  a  reply  to  the  communica- 
tion which  he  had  made  to  him  after  his  conversation  with 
me  on  the  24th  ultimo.  Count  Lamsdorff's  letter  had  been 
despatched  from  St.  Petersburgh  before  he  could  receive  the 
further  despatch  which  Count  Benckendorff  had  addressed 
to  him  after  our  conversation  on*the  ist  instant.  Count 
Benckendorff  was  now  able  to  assure  me  officially  that  there 
was  no  Convention  about  Tibet,  either  with  Tibet  itself  or 
with  China,  or  with  anyone  else,  nor  had  the  Russian  Govern- 
ment any  Agents  in  that  country,  or  any  intention  of  sending 
Agents  or  Missions  there.  Count  Lamsdorff  had  even  ex- 
pressed some  surprise  that  Count  Benckendorff  had  not  taken 
upon  himself  to  give  an  immediate  contradiction  to  these 
reports.  He  was,  indeed,  astonished  that  they  should  re- 
ceive so  much  credence  by  His  Majesty's  Government. 
Count  Benckendorff  went  on  to  say  that  although  the  Rus- 
sian Government  had  no  designs  whatever  upon  Tibet,  they 
could  not  remain  indifferent  to  any  serious  disturbance  of 
the  status  quo  in  that  country.  Such  a  disturbance  might 
render  it  necessary  for  them  to  safeguard  their  interests  in 
Asia,  not  that,  even  in  this  case,  they  would  desire  to  inter- 
fere in  the  affairs  of  Tibet,  as  their  policy  "ne  viserait  le 
Thibet  en  aucun  cas,"  but  they  might  be  obliged  to  take 
measures  elsewhere.  They  regarded  Tibet  as  forming  a 
part  of  the  Chinese  Empire,  in  the  integrity  of  which  they 

312 


Appendix  M  313 

took  an  interest.  His  Excellency  went  on  to  say  that  he 
hoped  that  there  was  no  question  of  any  action  on  our  part 
in  regard  to  Tibet  which  might  have  the  effect  of  raising 
questions  of  this  kind.  I  told  His  Excellency  that  we  had  no 
idea  of  annexing  the  country,  but  he  was  well  aware  that  it 
immediately  adjoined  our  frontier,  that  we  had  Treaties 
with  the  Tibetans,  and  a  right  to  trade  facilities.  If  these 
were  denied  to  us,  and  if  the  Tibetans  did  not  fulfil  their 
Treaty  obligations,  it  would  be  absolutely  necessary  that  we 
should  insist  upon  our  rights.  His  Excellency  signified  as- 
sent. I  added  that  it  seemed  to  me  that  in  cases  of  this 
kind,  where  an  uncivilised  country  adjoined  the  possessions 
of  a  civilised  Power,  it  was  inevitable  that  the  latter  should 
exercise  a  certain  amount  of  local  predominance.  Such  a 
predominance,  as  I  had  before  explained  to  him,  belonged  to 
us  in  Tibet.  But  it  did  not  follow  from  this  that  we  had  any 
designs  upon  the  independence  of  the  country. 


APPENDIX  O 

Pages  5  and  6  of  "Further  Papers  Relating  to  Tibet,  1904. " 

(While  both  these  despatches  cover  the  same  incident,  it  seemed 
best  to  preserve,  not  only  the  concise  detail  of  facts  given  by 
General  Macdonald,  but  also  the  philosophic  generalisation  of 
Lord  Curzon.  His  unconscious  effrontery  even  in  talking 
about  a  weak  people — not  to  them — would  be  humourous  were 
it  not  painful.  The  italics  are  not  in  the  original  print. — 
O.  T.  C.) 

From  the  Viceroy  to  the  Secretary  of  State  for  India,  dated 
the  ist  April,  1904. 

(Telegraphic) 

Younghusband  telegraphs,  on  the  3ist  March,  to  following 
effect:  "Some  resistance  was  offered  at  Guru,  but  we  have 
occupied  the  village,  and  will  establish  there  an  advance 
supply  dep6t,  the  force  returning  here  in  the  evening.  Our 
casualties  consisted  of  only  a  few  wounded,  of  whom  only 
Candler,  the  correspondent  of  the  Daily  Mail,  is  severely 
hurt;  we  have  none  killed.  The  losses  of  the  Tibetans 
amount  to  300  or  more  killed  and  many  wounded  and  pris- 
oners. Amongst  the  killed  are  the  Lhasa  General  and  an- 
other General.  The  scene  of  the  fighting  was  a  post,  which 
had  been  recently  constructed  by  them  actually  on  the  road ; 
they  were  surrounded  to  such  a  degree  that  our  men  were 
pointing  their  rifles  into  the  camp  over  the  walls.  No  vio- 
lence was  used  by  our  men  who  showed  very  great  self- 
restraint;  O' Conor  told  the  Lhasa  General  that,  if  his  men 
would  surrender  their  arms,  they  would  be  permitted  to 
retire.  This,  however,  had  no  effect,  and  General  Mac- 
donald then  ordered  our  men  to  begin  disarming  the  Tibetans, 
who  resisted  and  attacked  our  troops  with  swords  and  with 


Appendix  O  3J5 

firing.  We  then  returned  the  fire.  This  result  was  wholly 
caused  by  the  complete  inability  of  the  Tibetans,  even  when  our 
troops  absolutely  surrounded  them,  to  take  in  the  seriousness  of 
the  situation" 

From  the  Viceroy  to  the  Secretary  of  State  for  India,  dated 
the  ist  April,  1904. 

(Telegraphic) 

Following  telegram  received  from  Macdonald : 
"Thuna,  3ist  March.  I  moved  to  Guru  this  morning  to 
establish  a  supply  depot  at  that  place,  taking  the  following 
force  with  me:  Two  guns,  No.  7  Mounted  Battery,  two  7- 
pounders  8th  Gurkhas,  one-and-a-half  companies  Mounted 
Infantry,  three  companies  23rd  Pioneers,  four  companies 
32nd  Pioneers,  two  companies  8th  Gurkhas,  machine  gun 
Norfolks,  and  section  Field  Hospital.  We  moved  out  of 
Thuna  at  8  A.M.,  the  ground  being  covered  with  snow,  about 
two  inches  of  which  fell  last  night.  Colonel  Younghusband 
accompanied  me.  When  we  had  moved  about  four  miles 
across  the  plain  we  were  met  by  a  deputation  of  Tibetan 
leaders,  who  demanded  our  retiring  to  Yatung,  and  threat- 
ened trouble  if  we  advanced.  Colonel  Younghusband  re- 
plied that  we  would  proceed  to  Guru,  and  asked  if  they  were 
prepared  to  oppose  us,  to  which  no  definite  answer  was  given; 
Colonel  Younghusband  accordingly  asked  me  to  refrain  from 
firing  till  fired  at.  A  large  number  of  armed  Tibetans,  esti- 
mated at  about  2,000,  were  observed  on  a  hill  jutting  out 
into  the  plain  some  four  miles  short  of  Guru,  where  they 
occupied  sangars  and  a  high  wall  commanding  the  road.  I 
advanced  in  attack  formation,  shouldering  the  Tibetans  off 
the  hill,  and  outflanking  them  on  the  plains,  without  firing, 
the  troops  exercising  the  greatest  restraint.  The  result  was 
that  1,500  Tibetan  troops  collected  behind  the  high  wall, 
blocking  the  road,  and  refusing  to  budge.  They  were  in- 
formed that  they  would  have  to  lay  down  their  arms,  and  an 
attempt  was  accordingly  made  to  disarm  them,  a  portion  of 
the  reserve  being  moved  up  for  the  purpose.  The  Lhasa 
leaders  then  incited  an  attack  upon  us,  the  Lhasa  Depon 
firing  the  first  shot  and  the  Tibetans  firing  point-blank  and 


3i  6  Tibet  and  Turkestan 

charging  with  swords;  they  were,  however,  so  hemmed  in 
that  they  could  not  make  use  of  their  numbers,  and  after  a 
few  minutes  were  in  full  retreat  under  a  heavy  fire  of  guns, 
Maxims  and  rifles,  which  caused  them  heavy  loss.  The  2nd 
Mounted  Infantry  were  despatched  in  pursuit,  and  the 
balance  of  the  troops  reforming  pushed  on  to  Guru.  The 
two  eastern  Guru  villages  were  evacuated,  but  the  western 
one  was  held,  and,  after  being  shelled,  was  taken  by  the  2nd 
Mounted  Infantry  and  Gurkhas,  the  garrison  surrendering. 
This  ended  the  engagement,  except  that  the  ist  Mounted 
Infantry  continued  the  pursuit  for  some  miles  further.  Our 
casualties  are — Major  Wallace  Dunlop  slightly  wounded; 
Mr.  Candler,  'Daily  Mail'  correspondent,  severely  wounded, 
and  seven  sepoys  wounded.  The  enemy's  loss  is  nearly  500 
killed  and  wounded,  and  200  prisoners,  all  their  camp  and 
baggage,  about  60  yaks  and  30  mules,  with  2  gingalls  and  a 
large  number  of  matchlocks  and  swords,  together  with  a  few 
breechloaders,  two  of  which  were  of  Russian  make.  Amongst 
the  Tibetans  killed  was  the  chief  Lhasa  Depon  and  the  Lama 
representative  of  the  Gaden  Monastery;  also  one  Shigatse 
Depon,  whilst  the  Phari  Depon  was  captured,  severely 
wounded.  Two  companies  32nd  Pioneers  and  the  2nd 
Mounted  Infantry  are  established  at  Guru,  as  an  advanced 
post,  the  remaining  troops  returning  to  Tuna  by  7  P.M.,  after 
a  long  and  trying  day,  having  marched  21  miles  and  fought 
two-  engagements.  Fuller  details  follow.  Writing  report. 
All  Tibetan  wounded  have  been  brought  in,  and  are  being 
attended  to." 


APPENDIX  P 
Despatch  of  a  correspondent  in  the  field. 

From  the  London  Times,  May  31,  1903.  Under  date 
April  22nd. — The  Tibetans'  peasants'  manners  are  perfect. 
The  small  boy  jumps  off  the  harrow  upon  which  he  has  been 
having  a  ride,  and,  stopping  his  song,  bows  with  his  joined 
hands  in  front  of  his  face,  elbows  up  and  right  knee  bent.  A 
householder  smiles,  gives  two  inches  of  tongue,  and  gives  a 
Napoleonic  salute  as  we  pass. 


317 


APPENDIX  Q 

Page  po  (et  seq.),  "Further  Papers  Relating  to  Tibet,  1905." 
Convention  between  Great  Britain  and  Tibet. 

Whereas  doubts  and  difficulties  have  arisen  as  to  the 
meaning  and  validity  of  the  Anglo-Chinese  Convention  of 
1890  and  the  Trade  Regulations  of  1895,  and  as  to  the  lia- 
bilities of  the  Tibetan  Government  under  these  agreements; 
and  whereas  recent  occurrences  have  tended  towards  a  dis- 
turbance of  the  relations  of  friendship  and  good  understand- 
ing which  have  existed  between  the  British  Government  and 
the  Government  of  Tibet;  and  whereas  it  is  desirable  to 
restore  peace  and  amicable  relations,  and  to  resolve  and  deter- 
mine the  doubts  and  difficulties  aforesaid,  the  said  Govern- 
ments have  resolved  to  conclude  a  Convention  with  these 
objects,  and  the  following  articles  have  been  agreed  upon  by 
Colonel  F.  E.  Younghusband,  C.  I.  E.,  in  virtue  of  full  powers 
vested  in  him  by  His  Britannic  Majesty's  Government  and  on 
behalf  of  that  Government,  and  Lo-Sang,  Gyal-Tsen,  the 
Ga-den  Ti-Rimpoche,  and  the  representatives  of  the  Council, 
of  the  three  monasteries  Se-ra,  Dre-pung,  and  Ga-den,  and  of 
the  ecclesiastical  and  lay  officials  of  the  National  Assembly  on 
behalf  of  the  Government  of  Tibet. 

I 

The  Government  of  Tibet  engages  to  respect  the  Anglo- 
Chinese  Convention  of  1890  and  to  recognise  the  frontier 
between  Sikkim  and  Tibet,  as  denned  in  Article  I.  of  the  said 
Convention,  and  to  erect  boundary  pillars  accordingly. 

II 

The  Tibetan  Government  undertakes  to  open  forthwith 
trade  marts  to  which  all  British  and  Tibetan  subjects  shall 


Appendix  Q  3T9 

have  free  right  of  access  at  Gyangtse  and  Gartok,  as  well  as 
at  Yatung. 

The  Regulations  applicable  to  the  trade  mart  at  Yatung, 
under  the  Anglo-Chinese  Agreement  of  1893,  shall,  subject  to 
such  amendments  as  may  hereafter  be  agreed  upon  by  com- 
mon consent  between  the  British  and  Tibetan  Governments, 
apply  to  the  marts  above  mentioned. 

In  addition  to  establishing  trade  marts  at  the  places  men- 
tioned, the  Tibetan  Government  undertakes  to  place  no  re- 
strictions on  the  trade  by  existing  routes,  and  to  consider  the 
question  of  establishing  fresh  trade  marts  under  similar  con- 
ditions if  development  of  trade  requires  it. 

Ill 

The  question  of  the  amendment  of  the  Regulations  of 
1893  is  reserved  for  separate  consideration,  and  the  Tibetan 
Government  undertakes  to  appoint  fully  authorised  dele- 
gates to  negotiate  with  representatives  of  the  British  Gov- 
ernment as  to  the  details  of  the  amendments  required. 

IV 

The  Tibetan  Government  undertakes  to  levy  no  dues  of 
any  kind  other  than  those  provided  for  in  the  tariff  to  be 
agreed  upon. 

V 

The  Tibetan  Government  undertakes  to  keep  the  roads  to 
Gyangtse  and  Gartok  from  the  frontier  clear  of  all  obstruc- 
tion and  in  a  state  of  repair  suited  to  the  needs  of  the  trade, 
and  to  establish  at  Yatung,  Gyangtse,  and  Gartok,  and  at 
each  of  the  other  trade  marts  that  may  hereafter  be  estab- 
lished, a  Tibetan  Agent  who  shall  receive  from  the  British 
Agent  appointed  to  watch  over  British  trade  at  the  marts  in 
question  any  letter  which  the  latter  may  desire  to  send  to  the 
Tibetan  or  to  the  Chinese  authorities.  The  Tibetan  Agent 
shall  also  be  responsible  for  the  due  delivery  of  such  com- 
munications and  for  the  transmission  of  replies. 

VI 

As  an  indemnity  to  the  British  Government  for  the  ex- 
pense incurred  in  the  despatch  of  armed  troops  to  Lhasa,  to 


320  Tibet  and  Turkestan 

exact  reparation  for  breaches  of  treaty  obligations,  and  for 
the  insults  offered  to  and  attacks  upon  the  British  Commis- 
sioner and  his  following  and  escort,  the  Tibetan  Government 
engages  to  pay  a  sum  of  pounds,  five  hundred  thousand — 
equivalent  to  rupees  seventy-five  lakhs — to  the  British 
Government. 

The  indemnity  shall  be  payable  at  such  place  as  the  Brit- 
ish Government  may,  from  time  to  time,  after  due  notice, 
indicate,  whether  in  Tibet  or  in  the  British  districts  of  Dar- 
jeeling  or  Jalpaiguri,  in  seventy-five  annual  instalments  of 
rupees,  one  lakh  each  on  the  ist  January  in  each  year,  begin- 
ning from  the  ist  January,  1906. 

VII 

As  security  for  the  payment  of  the  above-mentioned  in- 
demnity, and  for  the  fulfilment  of  the  provisions  relative  to 
trade  marts  specified  in  Articles  II,  III,  IV,  and  V,  the 
British  Government  shall  continue  to  occupy  the  Chumbi 
Valley  until  the  indemnity  has  been  paid  and  until  the  trade 
marts  have  been  effectively  opened  for  three  years,  which- 
ever date  may  be  the  later. 

VIII 

The  Tibetan  Government  agrees  to  raze  all  forts  and 
fortifications  and  remove  all  armaments  which  might  impede 
the  free  communication  between  the  British  frontier  and  the 
towns  of  Gyangtse  and  Lhasa. 

IX 

The  Government  of  Tibet  engages  that,  without  the  pre- 
vious consent  of  the  British  Government, — 

(a)  No  portion  of  Tibetan  territory  shall  be  ceded,  sold, 

leased,  mortgaged,  or  otherwise  given  for  occupation, 
to  any  Foreign  Power; 

(b)  No  such   Power  shall  be  permitted  to  intervene  in 

Tibetan  affairs; 

(c)  No  Representative  or  Agents  of  any  Foreign  Power 

shall  be  admitted  to  Tibet; 

(d)  No  concessions  for  railways,  roads,  telegraphs,  mining 

or    other  rights,  shall  be  granted  to  any  Foreign 


Appendix.  Q  321 

Power,  or  the  subject  of  any  Foreign  Power.  In  the 
event  of  consent  to  such  concessions  being  granted, 
similar  or  equivalent  concessions  shall  be  granted  to 
the  British  Government; 

(e)  No  Tibetan  revenues,  whether  in  kind  or  in  cash,  shall 
be  pledged  or  assigned  to  any  Foreign  Power,  or  the 
subject  of  any  Foreign  Power. 


In  witness  whereof  the  negotiators  have  signed  the  same, 
and  affixed  thereunto  the  seal  of  their  arms. 

Done  in  duplicate  at  Lhasa,  this  7th  day  of  September  in 
the  year  of  our  Lord  one  thousand  nine  hundred  and  four, 
corresponding  with  the  Tibetan  date,  the  27th  day  of  the 
seventh  month  of  the  Wood  Dragon  year. 

[The  seals  of  the  Tibetan  Commission  (British),  of  the  Coun- 
cil (Tibetan),  of  the  Dalai  Lama  (applied  by  the  Ga-den  Ti- 
Rimpoche},  of  the  Dre-pung,  Se-ra,  and  Ga-den  monasteries,  and 
of  the  National  Assembly  are  then  affixed,  and  the  signature  of 
F.  E.  Younghusband,  Colonel,  British  Commisioner,  also 
appears.— O.  T.  C.] 

In  proceeding  to  the  signature  of  the  Convention,  dated 
this  day,  the  representatives  of  Great  Britain  and  Tibet  de- 
clare that  the  English  text  shall  be  binding. 

(Seals  as  above  repeated. — O.  T.  C.) 

This  Convention  was  ratified  by  the  Viceroy  and  Governor- 
General  of  India  in  Council  at  Simla  on  the  nth  day  of  No- 
vember, A.D.,  one  thousand  nine  hundred  and  four. 
(Signed)         S.  M.  FRASER, 

Secretary  to  the  Government  of  India, 
Foreign  Department. 

ax 


APPENDIX  R 

Declarations  signed  by  His  Excellency  the  Viceroy  and  the 
Governor- General  of  India,  and  appended  to  the 
Ratified  Convention  of  jth  of  September,  1904. 

His  Excellency  the  Viceroy  and  Governor-General  of  India, 
having  ratified  the  convention  which  was  concluded  at  Lhasa 
on  the  7th  of  September,  1904,  by  Colonel  Younghusband, 
C.  I.  E.,  British  Commissioner  for  Tibet  frontier  matters,  on 
behalf  of  His  Britannic  Majesty's  Government,  and  by  Lo- 
Sang,  Gyal-Tsen,  the  Ga-den,  Ti-Rimpoche,  and  the  repre- 
sentatives of  the  Council  of  the  monasteries,  Se-ra,  Dre-pung, 
and  Ga-den,  and  of  the  Government  of  Tibet,  is  pleased  to 
direct  as  an  act  of  grace  that  the  sum  of  money  which  the 
Tibetan  Government  have  bound  themselves,  under  the 
terms  of  Article  6  of  the  said  convention,  to  pay  to  his 
Majesty's  Government  as  an  indemnity  for  the  expenses  in- 
curred by  the  latter  in  connection  with  the  dispatch  of  armed 
forces  to  Lhasa,  be  reduced  from  Rs.  7,500,000  to  Rs.  2,500,- 
ooo,  and  to  declare  that  the  British  occupation  of  Chumbi 
Valley  shall  cease,  after  the  payment  of  three  annual  install- 
ments of  said  indemnity,  as  fixed  by  the  said  Article.  Pro- 
vided, however,  that  the  trade  marts,  as  stipulated  in  Article 
2  of  the  convention,  shall  have  been  effectively  opened  for 
three  years,  as  provided  in  Article  6  of  the  convention,  and 
that  in  the  meantime  the  Tibetans  shall  have  faithfully  com- 
plied with  the  term  of  the  said  Convention  in  all  other 
respects. 


322 


APPENDIX  S 

No.  193 

Despatch  from  the  Secretary  of  State  for  India  to   the 
Government  of  India,  December  2nd,  1904. 

(Note  the  inconsistency  between  the  declaration  concerning 
isolation,  and  the  insistence  upon  trade  relations,  an  insistence 
for  which  London  is  equally  responsible  with  Calcutta. — 
O.  T.  C.) 

Section  6.  The  object  of  that  policy,  as  stated  in  Lord 
George  Hamilton's  despatch  of  the  2;th  of  February,  1903, 
was  that  British  influence  should  be  recognised  at  Lhasa  in 
such  manner  as  to  exclude  that  of  any  other  power ;  and  that 
Tibet  should  remain  in  that  state  of  isolation  from  which, 
until  recently,  she  had  shown  no  intention  to  depart,  and 
which  has  hitherto  caused  her  presence  on  our  frontier  to  be 
a  matter  of  indifference  to  us.  We  have  intended  effecting 
this  result  not  by  establishing  a  Resident  at  Lhasa  but  by 
obtaining  the  consent  of  the  Tibetan  Government  to  a  con- 
vention by  which  they  undertook  not  to  receive  the  agent  of 
any  foreign  power,  nor  to  grant  concessions  or  assignments  of 
revenue  to  the  subject  of  any  foreign  power  without  the  pre- 
vious consent  of  the  British  Government. 

Page  35  "  Further  Papers  Relating  to  Tibet,  1905." 

Extract  from  a  Letter  from  the  Government  of  India  to 

the  Secretary  of  State  for  India,  dated  Simla, 

the  ^oth  June,  1904. 

If  on  this  occasion  also,  after  protracted  discussions  and 
costly  military  operations  in  Tibetan  territory,  we  retire, 
leaving  no  visible  sign  of  our  authority  within  their  borders, 
and  are  content  to  secure  a  Convention  which  like  its  prede- 
cessors may  be  rendered  nugatory  by  the  non-existence  of 
practical  guarantees,  then  we  shall  only  find  ourselves,  after 
heavy  outlay,  in  a  worse  position  than  before,  and  the  Tibet- 
ans will  believe  more  firmly  than  ever  that  our  failure  to 
gain  our  ends  is  due  to  inability  to  force  submission. 

323 


